Saving Faith
by sableambiguity
Summary: Uzuki Yuugao is sent to gather information when Orochimaru seeks a new vessel in the grasslands, but when she's betrayed the entire Konoha force is plunged into turmoil. Rated on the safe side for language, various pairings.
1. Missing In Action

Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine. It and all its characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.

* * *

Saving Faith 

Chapter One: Missing In Action

* * *

Uzuki Yuugao knew when she was beaten. 

It was the reason she was still alive, the reason she'd been chosen for this mission. She'd already delayed her departure by a week because she'd been so sure she was on the brink of a new discovery. Those seven days had paid off, but they acted as a double-edged sword; now, if she fell here, the mission died with her.

They'd sent eight Jounin after her, and while she'd been prepared for their attack, so had they. Their assault was launched in broad daylight, her first indication that something was dreadfully wrong. Either their shinobi were poorly trained, or cocky as hell. After four months in the _Kusa no Kuni_ she'd seen enough to dismiss the first, and if they were arrogant, it was for good reason. Living with the shadow of _Hi no Kuni_ and its Konoha looming over their southeastern border had not taught them nothing.

In a matter of moments she knew the reason for their boldness. These Jounin knew her jutsu, anticipated her attacks, had memorized her fighting style.

She'd been betrayed.

Now, after only a handful of minutes, her ANBU mask had fluttered to the ground when its string was cut along with her cheek and a lock of her hair. Her right arm hung useless at her side, sanguine trailing down her gloved fingertips to stain the ground. She'd almost reached the border, but here in this field, her blood was spilling to quench the thirst of the grassland's namesake.

Her katana caught the sunlight, reflected it from one of the enemy's forehead protectors. She'd dispatched four of them by what would seem mere accident, but that left half on their feet, alert, like vultures circling her and waiting to pick her bones clean before she'd even lost her life. There was only one trick left up her sleeve, a desperate hope that whoever told them about her did so based on what was in a book, and not by fighting by her side.

_Mikazuki no Mai._

It nearly depleted all of her chakra reserves, but it served its purpose. Three fell swiftly with the summoned swords still in their hearts, the fourth with his throat slit twice. She couldn't give him a clean death. It pained her, but it couldn't be helped. Her left arm, no matter her years of training, was still a weakness compared to her right.

When she was sure they weren't getting back up, she stooped to retrieve her mask, sheathed her katana, and nearly buckled under her own weight when she tried to rise. The razor-keen blades of grass they had conjured had left her riddled with cuts and the loss of blood was beginning to take its toll. She needed to get away and quickly.

Dark lashes were shut as she remained crouched there, gauging her strength, her energy, before with the same determination that had kept her alive all these years, she was off, what chakra she could spare propelling her across the border, to what she hoped would be relative safety.

There was a rocky outcropping a few paces past that indistinguishable line; it was for this she aimed. If she could tuck herself out of sight, everything would be fine. Time wasn't on her side. Its passing meant someone would look for the eight Jounin, and upon finding them dead, would hunt her down to complete their goal.

Betrayal.

Someone's infidelity had led to this, yet in her last moments, as darkness crowded her vision and tunneled it on that single rocky ledge she sought, she wasn't thinking about the traitor's identity. Her thoughts had drifted far beyond, back beyond, into the shadow of memory that claimed her when she slumped to feel the heat of the stone against her already seared back. To the man who saved her life.

_Hayate..._

* * *

His laughter was infectious. The first time she heard it she couldn't appreciate it; he'd caught her at the training grounds, hanging when her long hair got tangled on a branch. 

"Need some help, _hebo_?"

She'd responded with nothing more than a blank stare, drowning out his laughter with the thunk of her kunai slicing through ebony-violet tresses as it found a home in the branch, freeing her to fall gracefully to her feet below. It was embarrassing to be caught in the situation as it was, and by a rival no less.

Gekkou Hayate was a member of another Genin team, and both his sensei and hers had entered their teams in the Chuunin exam beginning in two days. He was competition, and annoying competition at that.

A smirk was all she received for her escape, and a smooth, "Good thing because I wouldn't have helped you anyway. Your own fault for wearing your hair so long." He was incredibly infuriating, especially when he continued on his way with more of that laughter reaching her ears as he went.

But she managed to keep her cool. She always managed to keep her cool. All she spared him was a calm, almost tranquil look, and a small, knowing smile that barely touched one corner of her mouth. It's the same smile he got when their names were drawn to face each other in the final round of the exam.

"Maybe you'll learn something, _hebo_. Like how to avoid getting caught in trees," was what she got.

At thirteen, he was a year older, a year more experienced. It would be a surprise if she won the match, which meant she was all the more determined to do just that. Her sensei had been shocked by her newfound tenacity, worried when she pushed herself again and again. But she wouldn't be beaten, not by that aggravating boy.

When all was said and done, she couldn't much remember what happened during the match. She woke up afterward in the hospital, with the worst headache she could have ever imagined and a stinging pain on her chest from the blow that had broken her clavicle. Officially it was a draw, as the final blow dealt by both left each unconscious on the field. Yet others claim Hayate's cough in the midst of his oblivion made him the victor, others claimed the opposite, that because she had twitched it meant she was out cold only after him.

It didn't matter in the end since both of them were promoted to Chuunin, and it was him who told her. He'd come in some sort of peace, it seemed, with a small package hidden behind his back. At least, he was trying to hide it, but he lacked the subtlety necessary with one palm swathed in bandages and a limp in his gait.

As always, upon his entrance he was given nothing more than a cool stare. No smile this time.

"Congrats on us both making Chuunin. Brought you something." With that same lack of subtlety, the gift was practically shoved in her face where she rested propped against pillows in her hospital bed.

She took it without a word, moving to settle it on the table nearby until his expression stopped her. At her dismissal, it had almost turned crestfallen. Just almost, not quite. After all, he was a shinobi who'd learned to mask most of his feelings, and only as another shinobi could she sense the shift in his demeanor at all.

With hesitation lacing her movements, she pulled the package back to her lap, deft fingers plucking the single thread that bound the paper around the box within. Removing the lid, there on a bed of soft cotton lay a simple but elegant comb, like the ones she'd seen her mother wear with her favorite kimono. It was for special occasions, even if it was plain.

For the first time, he was given a glimpse of puzzlement on her face, asking him why without vocalizing the question. In return, she finally saw why so many of the other girls seemed to like this usually annoying boy so much.

"Keep your hair long," he said, with a very charming smile. It came naturally to him, this charm, but apparently he reserved it for special occasions, just like the comb now in her hands.

The moment was ruined when he reached over to ruffle her hair, adding his obligatory, "_Hebo_." And even though he was laughing when he left, glancing back to the gift he'd brought and remembering that smile on his face, it was the beginning of her appreciation for that sound.

She only heard his laughter now in her dreams.

* * *

"Tsunade-sama, I—" 

"Don't tell me not to worry, Shizune. Nearly six days have passed since the appointed time. She's never late."

Shizune couldn't argue. Her medical work and assistance of the Fifth Hokage left little time for her to cross paths with the ANBU Uzuki Yuugao, much less embark on missions on the same team. She didn't recall the last time the woman had been in the hospital either, but she had read her file, and had heard the talk of her. No, she wasn't one to be late..if she could help it.

But she tried again. "Tsunade-sama, worrying is not good for—"

A strong fist aided a teacup across the room to shatter into pieces, the remnants of its contents painting a trail along the wall. "I'm Godaime Hokage, damn it. I don't need to be coddled! The last thing I need is to be losing one of my shinobi at a time like this. Unh…"

Shizune was already at her side as she slumped back into her chair, the younger woman's able fingers catching the barely wrinkled ones of her mentor and friend. "Tsunade-sama, this will take its toll if you do not stop," is the calm, truthful reply to the outburst, offered as another cup of tea is poured and placed before her.

Even Tsunade could not stop the effects of time forever.

"I cannot leave her. She becomes a liability if I do. The _very_ last thing I need is for this mission to fail. I've summoned the best suited Jounin, but he's late."

Unlike the missing shinobi that caused this episode, Hatake Kakashi was always late.

Now was no exception, and at least twenty more minutes passed before a tap on the door preceded his sandaled feet coming into the room. That one lazy eye took in the female pair with a crinkle at its corner; if Shizune didn't know any better she'd think he was fighting a yawn behind his mask. As it was, he wasted no words, either figuring he'd already wasted enough time, or having the sense to know exactly why he'd been called. No one ever really knew what was going on inside that head.

"Uzuki Yuugao took a reconnaissance mission into _Kusa no Kuni_ and was supposed to return by this route almost six days ago. You're to find her and bring her back." A map is shoved across the desk toward him, the Hokage's fingertip marking the path mentioned. When she's satisfied that he's looked, though with that half-lidded stare of his it was hard to tell how earnestly he'd observed, she adds, "Shizune will be accompanying you."

Surprisingly enough, the only protest came from the medic herself.

"I'm not about to leave you, Tsunade-sama. You've been working too—"

All she was given were two blank, unyielding stares in return for her attempted refusal. It was enough to quiet her, even if it didn't settle her spirit. In the end, she couldn't help but ask why she had to go when Kakashi could clearly handle such a task on his own.

"Because there's only one reason Yuugao-san would have not returned," came Kakashi's voice, low and steady and untouched by the fabric of his mask.

He didn't need to say the reason. They all knew it.

She didn't return because she couldn't.

* * *

They left just before dawn and traveled silently for a day, following the route on the map. There was no conversation, no small talk between them. The only three words exchanged came when the next night fell. 

"Sleep?"

"No."

"Neither."

It was as the moon hung full in the sky overhead that they crossed the border into _Kusa no Kuni_. Like that indistinguishable line separating the two countries came the subtle realization that they were in potentially hostile territory, and though both of them still chose not to say a word, almost out of necessity now, they each had one hand twitching a bit closer to the holsters on their thigh. They weren't ordered to engage the enemy, but by the nearly tangible tension in the air, it was clear they suspected there were indeed enemies lurking in the grass country.

Their suspicions were confirmed when they stumbled upon the battlescene. It was hard to miss it with the coppery stench of blood filling the air and the moonlight gleaming off of one fallen Grass Jounin's kunai. Kakashi scouted the perimeter while Shizune found the center of the fray, easily marked by the four bodies pointing inward to face it.

"Over here."

With another outward glance he crossed to where she was crouched, his visible eye unblinking until she lofted her find.

A single lock of sable hair, gleaming violet in the moonlight.

Instantly he was transported back, to his first mission as her captain on the ANBU squad. He, like most everyone in her career, had told her to pin up her hair, or she would inevitably pay for it. Reckless vanity wouldn't lose him a member of his team. Nothing would, if he could help it.

She'd met the request with nothing more than that usual quiet, small smile of hers. It was the expression she always seemed to wear when that mask was pulled away.

"No enemy has ever touched my hair, Kakashi-sempai."

Seeing that lock suspended to blow in the breeze that rustled through the field meant she was in danger. Real danger. And quite possibly…

He wouldn't allow himself that thought.

Shizune didn't ask him why he had that look in his eye, or why his grasp was almost rough when he took the hair in his own. She didn't mention that there was too much blood spilt on the ground to tell whether anyone could have survived the loss of it. She didn't point out the obvious, that though the fight was relatively recent, at least a few hours had passed—enough time for it to mean good or bad.

While she didn't say all those things, his dogs were summoned and his voice came for only the second time since they started their mission in the form of a nearly chilling command.

"Find her."

* * *

Fin. 

A/N: Thanks in advance for reading. I'm new to this whole genre, so if you have any comments or suggestions, I'd be honored. I'll be including a short glossary of sorts after each chapter when appropriate to help explain the Japanese terms I use; if anyone has an idea that might work better than that, let me know. Here goes.

_Kusa no Kuni_: Land of Grass, home to the hidden village Kusagakure.

_Hi no Kuni_: Land of Fire, home to the hidden village Konohagakure, or Konoha for short which means Village hidden in the Leaves. This is where most of the main characters in Naruto hail from.

_Mikazuki no Mai_: Literally, Dance of the Crescent Moon. Gekkou Hayate's signature ninjutsu, where the user conjures three _Kage Bunshin_ (or shadow doppelgangers) which mimic the user's sword patterns to confuse the enemy and attack.

_Hebo_: Clumsy person, greenhorn, novice, etc.

Also, I've adopted the practice of writing their last names first, as it would be in the Japanese tradition. I've also used name suffixes like -_san_ and -_sama_. Each holds significance, but rather than explain them here, Wikipedia has an excellent article on "Japanese titles" if you'd like to better understand. The rest of the terminology I would assume is common knowledge for Naruto fans, but if anything else needs to be explained, please let me know for next time.

Thank you again for reading, and I hope you enjoy. The next chapter should be up shortly.


	2. A Night to Forget

Saving Faith

Chapter Two: A Night to Forget

* * *

The day of her sixteenth birthday it had rained. 

Yuugao didn't normally mind the rain, but this was supposed to be a special day. She'd gotten accepted into ANBU and would report that day to collect her things and get assigned to her new team.

The light drizzle tapping against her windowpane didn't deter her when she purposefully woke early. Donning a simple kimono, she arranged her hair and, on a whim, tucked that comb she'd kept for four years into the side of the neat roll.

She didn't really know why she kept it. Maybe because it was the only present she'd gotten for making Chuunin. Or maybe because she wasn't the type to get rid of practical things even if she had only worn the comb once before. She knew it wasn't because of the giver. Sure, he was growing into quite a handsome young man, but oftentimes the present served to remind her that somewhere beneath the arrogant bravado and infuriating ribbings he gave her, there was someone nice. It seemed she needed to be reminded of that a lot.

An umbrella was found after a few minutes of rummaging through her closet, and sliding her feet into her sandals, she retrieved the two moonflowers blooming in the vase on her dresser, clipped just for this occasion. She was going to visit her parents.

This proved easier planned than done. The rain was slowing her down in more ways than one. Not only did it mean the streets were pocketed with grimy puddles she had to avoid, but an umbrella in one hand and flowers in another left no free fingers to raise the hem of her skirt from the mud. Several valiant attempts were made yet all failed miserably, and when the last resulted in her umbrella slipping enough to send a large droplet of rainwater across the bridge of her nose, it only served to frustrate her further.

"Need some help, _hebo_?" came an unfortunately familiar voice.

It seemed all of their conversations began with him making her feel helpless. In this case, she was at a loss without a third hand, but that didn't matter. She wasn't about to accept his help.

Maybe he sensed that because before she was given time to form a reply in the negative, his strong fingers were relieving hers of the umbrella. He stood close enough to touch though their arms didn't brush, and he held the cover so it purposefully shielded her completely, leaving the rain spattering off his right side. He was in his ANBU uniform, and droplets already trailed over its svelte lines to trace the tattoo on his left arm.

She chose not to comment on how he must be cold, and he chose not to comment on the comb nestled in her dark locks, if he even noticed.

Only a few blocks separated her apartment and the memorial. They crossed the distance with relative ease, and he made comfortable conversation about his latest mission, about his teammates, about a new jutsu he was trying to master. She listened and chimed in when appropriate, only thankful that he wasn't trying to pick on her or pick her up. After all, she knew one of his latest buddies was Shiranui Genma, and everyone knew that one's reputation.

When they finally reached the memorial, he had the courtesy to lean down when she placed the flowers at its foot, and relinquish the umbrella into her keeping again to give her a moment alone. His steps were soundless when they carried him to the shelter of a tree nearby, in sight but not in sound. The white vest of his uniform against the darkness of the shadows and sky overhead tried to distract her several times but somehow she managed to pay her respects properly.

As she turned to head back toward the village and the headquarters, he was at her side again, and this time she managed that declination he wouldn't let her get in before.

"I don't need an extra hand this time, Hayate-san."

He flashed her that charming smile she remembered from the hospital. It seemed like only yesterday that she'd seen it. "Now you have an extra hand to hold my arm with while I hold your umbrella." Maybe he had been spending too much time with Genma.

Rather than dignify the corny line with much of a response, she remarked, "That's why you helped me before?"

"All I really want is the partial cover of your umbrella. It just helps that you're not all that bad to look at, _hebo_."

_You're not all that bad to look at_. Hmph. As infuriating as ever, it would seem. "Don't you have a mission or something to report about?" Anything to get him gone.

"You're my mission."

Now she sent him a warning look; she wasn't the type to fall to cheesy pick-up lines or care for frivolous flattery. But when she met his eyes, she was surprised to see he seemed in complete earnest. "What?"

Another charming smile crossed his lips, and he took the umbrella from her, threading the free hand through his arm while she was too confused to offer much resistance.

"As the newest member of my squad, I'm the welcoming committee. Plus, I'm supposed to scope you out and then give all the other guys the info."

Her residual bewilderment swirled in her mind until his words finally sunk in, making some sort of sense that formed a pit in her stomach. She'd been placed on his squad? And he was here to check her out? Suddenly, this had gone from her best birthday ever to her worst.

This must have shown on her face, for she was pulled from her pensive reflection by that infectious laughter of his.

"Don't worry, _hebo_. I'll hold your hand while they ink your arm."

She'd scowled and deftly extricated herself and her umbrella from his grasp, storming all the way to the station to report immediately. As she pulled the comb from her hair to change into her new uniform to ensure the fit, she had half a mind to throw it across the room. What kept her from doing it was a mystery but it found a home instead tucked neatly amongst her things that she rested on her lap when she laid her right arm on the table for the artist to mark.

It stung. And burned.

Burned unbearably.

* * *

It was the present searing of her arm as Shizune's carefully molded chakra pumped through it that brought them an assurance that perhaps the stranded ANBU wasn't past hope. She groaned in pain, still unconscious. 

Kakashi's canine companions had done their job as well as was expected, finding Yuugao in a matter of minutes. Injured and on the brink of fatal blood loss, she hadn't gotten far, and Shizune had immediately gone to work patching up the graver wounds right where they found her slouched against a rock.

That cry of discomfort was the first indication besides her shallow breathing that she was really alive. Kakashi held her blood-slicked right glove in his hand as he continued to keep an eye on the path just beyond their current hiding spot, leaving the medic to do a medic's job. He couldn't watch even if he'd wanted to; seeing her in that state only served to remind him of when she'd been on his team those years ago, and his responsibility.

As she continued tending the blissfully unaware shinobi, Shizune finally spoke the thoughts on her mind. She didn't want to leave him as silent as he was, especially since she recognized that look in his eye when he'd retrieved the tattered ANBU mask from the ground where it had fallen from Yuugao's grasp. It was the same look visitors in the hospital wore when they thought something was their fault.

"Why eight grass-nin? I thought her mission was meant to be covert."

His fist clenched. Shizune was shocked the mask within its grip wasn't shattered into several pieces as a result. "It was. And no one sends eight men to patrol. They were on a mission."

"Do you think..?" _Was their mission Yuugao-san?_ That startling thought remained unspoken, but not unanswered.

"Yes."

When she was sure the bleeding had stopped, Shizune made sure to quickly and deftly wrap a bandage around the limb, leaving the other cuts and bruises for now. There wasn't any time to waste. If eight Jounin had been sent on a mission, others would come to see what had become of their comrades.

A rustle in the leaves nearby caught their attention. One long moment of near excruciating silence passed, and the rustle took flight in the form of an owl. It was enough to stir the medic to quicker action.

The last care she could offer was a wet cloth against Yuugao's lips. The ANBU was already getting feverish, but on the field there was nothing to be done. They needed to get her back to safety, to the hospital where she could be tended properly.

"Ready?"

Shizune offered him a nod, trading the bloodied glove and battered mask to allow him to scoop Yuugao's limp form into his arms, cradling her to his chest. The journey back would be slower as a result, but now they were in friendly territory. Their only enemy was death.

* * *

They camped at nightfall, several hours out of Konoha. Yuugao's fever had turned to delirium. Through parched lips she mumbled incoherent things about her parents, her sensei, her hair. Random nonsense that Shizune tried to ignore while she wet her lips with a damp cloth, and pooled more chakra into that arm to bring her some comfort. 

But it didn't seem to bring her comfort. Instead, Yuugao's feverish whispers escalated into choked, husky cries that repeated a single name. Hayate.

When the pain-induced hallucinations increased, Shizune was at a loss. The more numbing she tried to offer, the worse things got. Kakashi left his seat, kneeling beside his former squad member. He clasped her seemingly frail hand in his strong one, opposite easily curling his mask down to let it rest beneath his chin. His voice lacked tone and volume but was powerful all the same even in a whisper, smooth and comforting as he tried to stay the injured woman's fright, calm the tremble wracking her form.

After a few moments, Yuugao did calm, falling into a fitful sleep that would offer little rest but slowed her pulse and offered both her rescuers some reprieve from her wrenching cries.

Shizune opened her mouth to ask who this Hayate was, but shut it again when she caught a glimpse of the look on Kakashi's face. All she could see was his profile, but the way his jaw clenched, his brow was lowered, she could tell he was pained by whatever memories the name evoked.

He saw the subtle movement despite his gaze being trained on the unconscious ANBU, parted at first with only a dull, "I'll tell you."

"There's no need. I don't want to pry." She could tell it would be prying.

Another long moment of silence passed. Yuugao stirred but at a squeeze of Kakashi's hand, settled again. There was a familiarity between the two of them that could only stem from fighting alongside each other, working together on missions. Shizune couldn't remember what she'd read in Yuugao's file, but she knew Kakashi hadn't been ANBU for years. Whatever had formed their friendship had taken place nearly ten years ago.

Again their charge stirred restlessly, again she was quieted by a touch. Only then did the copy ninja turn that seemingly unaffected glance to her.

"I'll tell you."

* * *

This time her entire body burned, not just her arm. She could remember it was hot that night. She'd pushed the blankets from her bed and still awoke damp with perspiration. 

The flickering lights spilling through the cracks in her shaded window were what jarred her from her slumber. There was shouting outside, and it smelled like smoke. Since her father loved tobacco, she thought nothing of it, and rolled over to try and get back to sleep.

Just as she was about to drift off she was roused again, now by the door to her room banging open and her mother rummaging through her dresser. She found herself being pulled out of bed, told to dress quickly in what had been given to her, and then to come to the little alleyway just around the corner from their house.

Rubbing tired eyes, she'd tried to ask why, but her mother was already gone. Clumsy fingers fumbled as they rid her of her nightgown, and only when it hit the floor did she get some clue as to what was happening.

An explosion sounded outside, followed by screams and the clang of metal. With wide eyes, Yuugao snuck to peek out her window, and her sight was met with roaring flames and panicked villagers fleeing in any direction they could. They were under attack.

Haste now delayed her, fingers trying to fly too fast as they threw on her clothes and she scrambled out the front door, quick steps padding to the alley. Several other children were already huddled there, and she recognized many of them from the Academy.

Without a word, she took one very young girl's hand, who looked only five years old to Yuugao's ten, led her along with everyone else across the escape route. She didn't even look back to see if she could spot her parents, knew they would be fighting for the sake of everyone.

A shriek pierced the darkness as the small group hurried through the forest. _Kyuubi_. It only caused everyone's steps to grow even faster. One boy even lifted another to carry him so they could go quickly.

The legendary beast was the nightmare that haunted dreams, the monster that lurked in the closet or under the bed, the story told to scare a child into not wandering alone or running away from home.

They could barely hear anything, could barely see anything. All of it was like trying to watch the world through a blindfold, sounds muffled and vision dark and fuzzy. After a time there was nothing at all. Even the lights from the flames slowly went out, leaving all of them cold and terrified.

One by one, the adults came—parents coming to retrieve their children, to take them home, to assure them everything was safe. One by one until only a handful were left. The little girl whose hand Yuugao had been holding had been one of the first to leave with her mother, leaving her free to worry and fear and cry, though she angrily wiped the tears away with one wrist.

Finally, after what seemed a lifetime, a figure approached. It was an older woman, with her hair slipping from its bun and a haggard look on her face. All she said was "I'm sorry" before she motioned for the rest to follow her.

They were all orphans now.

Maybe that wait had been a lifetime. Suddenly, Yuugao felt like she'd seen enough of everything in life. And the only face she recognized amongst the others belonged to Umino Iruka. She would have said she didn't know him that well before, but now, she felt like she'd known him her whole life. They shared the same pain.

Her parents were dead. Lots of people were dead. Only later would she learn how many, and later than that would she be able to accept what actually happened that night.

Even sixteen years later, when she woke in the middle of the night, she'd imagine she smelled smoke. Right now, it stung her nostrils, and almost by habit she tried to stir, tried to open her eyes to see what was out that window. But her lashes were too heavy, a strong grip on her hand pressed her to the ground, kept her from waking entirely.

She could sleep for now. There was no _Kyuubi_ tonight. No one had died tonight. All the dead were only memories. All of them. Even Hayate.

His name floated through the pain to reach her, spoken by a comfortingly familiar voice that she couldn't place. For a moment she saw his smile again, saw his frown, heard his cough though this time it was softer, feminine. It was coming from her.

And then, there was nothing but darkness again, and she was cold and terrified..and alone.

* * *

Fin. 

A/N: Not sure when I'll get the next chapter up as I just started working a new job and my life is busy. But it'll be entirely from Kakashi's viewpoint, so it should be interesting to see how it pans out. Thank you for reading! Any critique is always appreciated.


	3. Days Gone By

Saving Faith

Chapter Three: Days Gone By

* * *

The firelight was doing wonders for his state of mind. 

Or maybe that would be terrors.

He felt as though if he stared hard enough, the shadows flickering against the ground with each crackle and bend of the flames would show him the silhouettes of things past, the figure of Hayate, that of Obito, Rin, his sensei the Fourth, his father, all of them.

But he didn't want to see them.

Only a month after the Tragic End, as it had come to be called, the last thing he wanted to do was dwell in memory. It was hard to believe that the Uchiha line had been reduced to nothing more than his left eye. Everything and everyone else was dead.

Uchiha Itachi had wanted this, Kakashi truly believed. Had wanted the bloodline to be destroyed, had wanted brother to kill brother to do so. Whether or not he'd cared about Orochimaru's part in things was debatable; in the end, it was Itachi who challenged Sasuke as the former sannin's host to a duel that he well knew would lead to nothing but death.

As they lay there, two brothers once again, everyone would like to think they found peace in their last moments before they passed on. They would also like to think that while both Uchiha brothers got what they'd sought for years, they'd realized the error of their ways. People always liked to think about forgiveness, acceptance, and change at the end of life. Funny that most never have the courage to think about it while they're living.

If anyone gained peace through the ordeal, it was because they finally saw their twisted dreams realized. Sasuke slew his brother, and fulfilled his role as an avenger. Itachi saw the end of the family name he'd come to loathe. Orochimaru managed to escape with his life, to continue his search for a new, perfect host. In a way, everyone got what they wanted.

Except the people left behind.

No, Kakashi didn't _want_ to remember tonight. He'd talk about Hayate, because in doing so he'd be honoring the man's memory. And at mention of his name, it had calmed Yuugao considerably, even in her restless slumber. She was the main concern now, not his petty issues with traipsing down memory lane.

"Gekkou Hayate was probably the best swordsman I've ever known in my entire life."

His tones were low and smooth, free of the noisy clutter of the rustle of fabric when he spoke against his mask. Shizune hadn't even noticed that subtle interference in the rich baritone of his voice, but now that she had, she'd never hear him the same again.

"He was killed four years ago."

* * *

Kakashi hadn't known what to expect when he'd reported to ANBU to meet the team he would be captaining. 

This wasn't it.

He stood in front of – as far as he was concerned – four very novice shinobi. Only two years separated him and the oldest, Mitarashi Anko, but he'd been a Jounin since thirteen and standing there now in his immaculate vest, he was twenty and one. More than seven years already under his belt.

To be fair, they were only comparatively novice. Tatami Iwashi was new to the group, having only joined ANBU within the last few weeks. Anko had been reassigned just inside of two months when she refused to serve under a different captain. That left the two most experienced and the two Kakashi was staring at now.

Uzuki Yuugao was the youngest, and at seventeen it was too early to tell what she'd be truly capable of, in his opinion. She'd gotten where she was through determined effort, a long arduous journey of hard work and diligence. But it seemed to have paid off if she'd survived a year of ANBU without the slightest chip visible on her shoulder.

On the other hand, Gekkou Hayate was the most naturally skilled of the lot. Unlike Yuugao, he'd had an easy time of passing his examinations, and his ability with a katana was incredible and effortless. There was only one major problem.

He was thoroughly infatuated with Yuugao.

Everyone seemed to know except the girl herself. Most people didn't think it was anything but adorable, but not Kakashi. He'd decided long ago that the last thing you should ever do was fall in love, and definitely not with someone on your own team at that.

Yes, he'd learned his lesson from Obito about looking out for your companions, but there were still limits. You didn't jump off a cliff to try and snatch someone out of midair if they happen to fall. This boy, Hayate, looked like he would do just that. In all of the two minutes the copy ninja had spent scrutinizing these teenagers, it was obvious Hayate was a fool for the pretty, young kunoichi.

Genma had told him that there were times he was afraid the boy might actually harm himself just to garner her attention for a moment, though he'd also been told that all she ever offered him was a polite smile at best.

Looking at him now, Kakashi could only hope he wasn't _that_ much of a fool.

As a male, he would admit Yuugao was attractive. She had a pleasant face, with a small nose and large, expressive eyes. At least, they would have been expressive had she not been an expert at concealing her emotions. But that was where the admiration stopped. For him, attractive or unattractive was like acknowledging that something was red or blue. It meant nothing more or less, considerably in light of Rin's death. It was why he had come to forget at ANBU.

Puppy love was highly overrated.

It got good shinobi killed.

Granted, there were several other things that got them killed that Kakashi liked even less. Perhaps the reason_ this_ one bothered him so much was that, in his mind, it was fully preventable. He intended to have a chat with Hayate about it at the first given opportunity.

But this wasn't that opportunity. Right now, he was busy ignoring the way that Anko was looking at him, and ignoring the way that Iwashi wasn't looking at him at all. Ignoring the way that Hayate was trying to look at Yuugao, and ignoring the way that no matter what was said or done, she was looking at everything and nothing at the same time. Damned teenagers. They sure had made it hard for him.

There was another problem, though he wasn't sure how to address it. It wasn't the boy's fault that he'd been born with bad blood—or potentially bad blood.

The state of the Gekkou family's health was common knowledge in Konoha. Hayate's grandfather, Gekkou Kyoufuu, was one of the bravest and most skilled swordsmen the leaf had ever seen in its ranks. But he was forced to retire at thirty-two when the coughing began.

Coughing was always the beginning of the end for this family. No one truly knew the extent of the pain the hereditary illness would wrack in their bodies, but the results were inevitably death. Kyoufuu passed on within two years of the cough's debut, but not before having to bury his own young son, Ryuusei, at the tender age of three. He would have been Hayate's uncle.

Hayate's father, Gekkou Reppuu, had the makings of a great shinobi, but shunned the calling in his cynical belief that it was only a matter of time before he too joined his ancestors in what had been coined the coughing half-life. Caught between health and illness, it was hardly a pleasant existence, and Reppuu lived constantly under the shadow of its supposed imminence.

Yet he never grew ill.

Years passed, and not even the sign of a prolonged sniffle or a mild rasp in his throat. Still it haunted him, lingered over him like an unseen monster breathing down his throat. When Hayate expressed his interest in becoming a shinobi, his father had tried to convince him otherwise, felt it better to forsake such dreams and settle into a mundane life that wouldn't be too much of a loss when it ended abruptly.

The youngest Gekkou won the day, however, and enrolled in the Academy, stood here before Kakashi an epitome of health right up to that cocky grin adorning his features. Maybe he would be lucky, but maybe…

That was a thought for another time. For now, the new captain needed to decide how to test his new team. The last thing he needed was to take a mission and find they were all as incompetent as he half expected them to be.

In the end, he hadn't tested them, not then. It had been Yuugao who had interjected when he began the instructions for the exercise, voicing what was no less than a protest and plea in a softspoken, respectful manner.

"Please, Kakashi-sempai. We are tired and just came back from a hard mission. We wouldn't meet your expectations."

His single, lazy eye had settled on her first, staring through her as she spoke on behalf of her comrades. As his gaze then shifted across them all, he noticed the mud staining their vests, the weariness shadowing Iwashi's eyes, the small cut that trailed from Anko's elbow across her bicep.

It's not like he ever expected them to meet his expectations.

He'd agreed with her, however, and dismissed them all save Hayate. There were still issues to be addressed with that one.

At first, the eighteen-year-old was granted nothing more than a silent stare, which he appropriately began to fidget uncomfortably under after several minutes. Kakashi wanted him to fidget; it often led to more honest answers when inquiries were finally made. Of course, he wasn't silent just to make the younger man uncomfortable. He was trying to decide what to approach first.

"It's clear you have feelings for Uzuki-san." It would be best to start with the easier topic of the two. And by easier, he meant the one capable of being changed.

"Umm..yes, sir." Nothing more, nothing less.

Kakashi adopted the same tactic and said nothing more. That sable eye was piercing enough of a hole through Hayate's skull to prompt him to look up. It was all he needed to release the floodgates.

"Just wait until you see her in action. She's amazing. She's dedicated, she's beautiful, she's so kind and compassionate, don't you think?"

That was where the new captain drew the line at this nonsense. This wasn't about his opinion. Not only was it completely meaningless in the scheme of things, but he didn't happen to agree that any woman, even if she was all of those things, was worthy of any sort of wholehearted devotion.

"Whatever you think you feel is a lie. You probably barely know her." Especially if all she ever offered him was quiet smiles like the one she'd given Kakashi throughout her request the team be given some time to rest.

Hayate had now successfully cycled through uncertain obedience, sullen acceptance, effervescent enthusiasm, to angry defiance. It was a wonder he wasn't sick if he did this all the time. The young shinobi took no care to mask his emotions, and if they were strong enough to be displayed so clearly, they must be taking a toll on his mental fortitude.

The copy ninja had long ago decided he didn't have the strength to spare to feel much of anything anymore.

"Now you sound just like my father. Claiming that because something _might_ be, nothing else is worth working toward, or trying for. I'd like to think becoming a shinobi was a much harder task than getting Yuugao-chan to notice me." He'd had to clear his throat at the end because he was getting so heated. This really might be the death of him, this frivolous crush.

Well, there was the answer to his next question.

He resented being equated with the boy's father. Gekkou Reppuu was a quitter. He hadn't even tried to play the game and he'd already folded his hand. Hatake Kakashi was not a quitter. He was merely prudent.

Experienced.

Of course, foolhardy, headstrong Hayate was not going to be told any of this. Regarding him with that same half-lidded ebony stare, Kakashi decided he might do well with this sort of tenacity. If he would protest about a kunoichi whose name he'd barely know in a handful of years, imagine what kind of fight he would put up when the matter was important.

Yes, he decided. Hayate would be fine.

* * *

But Hayate hadn't been fine. 

Thinking back now, Kakashi couldn't remember when the coughing had begun. It had been subtle, the perfect predator, sneaking up on its prey and sinking its teeth so far into him that to have removed it would have meant his death. Not that there was a way to remedy it regardless.

"He had been forced to take a job as an examiner in the Chuunin trials when the coughing grew worse."

Forced was too harsh a word. It had actually been his team's doing, and Genma's. Missions had grown too taxing on the young man. Kakashi even now found it ironic that at the same age he had entered ANBU, twenty-one, Hayate left it. Yet his team had grown to care about him, including Yuugao who by now had come to return his feelings. It was a testament to love the way she cared for him in those long nights when the cough wouldn't abate enough for either ninja to sleep.

They had coordinated amongst themselves to all leave ANBU with him. Anko and Iwashi wanted to be examiners; the former saw it as a challenge to become the first female to do so, and the latter had never taken to the life of an undercover soldier. Genma had a hand pressing Hayate into agreeing, and that left Yuugao.

Hayate wouldn't let her leave.

He knew she loved what she was doing, knew she had the skill to keep doing it for a long while. It didn't matter that they would be apart. There would always be time when they were apart. At least this way they'd cherish their time together more by being happy and content when they had it.

Kakashi, the only other member of their team not planning to leave the corps just yet, had been asked to look after her. It was more like begged, and the look in the younger shinobi's eyes when he'd pleaded in such earnest had reminded the captain of that first meeting all those years ago when he'd deduced that Hayate was a fool.

He'd agreed to watch over her in a very vague, very subtle sense. Nothing foolish. Even then he was still trying to make a point.

"The missions he took were simple information-gathering, and other relatively non-combative endeavors." Non-combative, but deadly. He didn't need to explain that to Shizune.

The medic hadn't interrupted once into what had become a dreary monologue, and while Kakashi was grateful – it was easier to have it all out without answering questions or elaborating further, after all – he was also a bit apprehensive. Hopefully she wasn't planning to voice all her inquiries at the end. At the end, he would be done speaking.

"Apparently.." Emphasis was placed lightly on this segue, and even though it was smooth, it betrayed how much it irks the man that no one truly knows the events surrounding Hayate's death. "He was discovered while on one of these missions, and killed for the information he had gained."

Shizune finally broke her self-imposed silence to motion absently toward Yuugao's sleeping figure. "Were they..?"

"They loved each other."

Stated matter-of-factly, it was plain and simple. Like stating a scientific truth, or talking about the weather. It was impersonal. It also signaled the end of the conversation.

It was probably best they get moving anyway. Kakashi knew that Shizune pushed herself to a stand against her body's protests, but that she could sense he didn't want to sit awake in the darkness through the entire night. The shadows brought too many memories to life for his taste. Neither of them would be able to sleep much anyway.

As she checked to make sure Yuugao's condition was stable, he doused the fire, finding it oddly soothing. How many campfires had he put out over the years? But with this one, he was burying everything amidst the ashes, burying the remembrances within himself, burying everything _but_ himself. Let the light go out on his memories. He wouldn't miss them.

Yet already the sun was beginning to fight with the moon for reign in the sky, and it was only a matter of time before it was a new day, and that light would shine as brightly as ever.

* * *

Fin.

A/N: To my one faithful reviewer thank you so much! I keep writing because I'm encouraged by people like you. Anyone else who reads this and has a moment, please review, critique, anything. I get tickled pink and inspired when I read them.

There weren't any Japanese terms in this chapter, so to speak, but I thought I would point out the significance of the names I chose for Hayate's family. Since both Hayate and Gekkou were taken from the names of Japanese WWII fighter planes, I took the ones I supplied from that same source. Here are their meanings:

_Kyoufuu_: Strong or raging wind.

_Reppuu_: Gale; violent wind.

_Ryuusei_: Falling star.

**Edit:** Thank you, Pyroneko 28, for catching a typo of mine. I fixed it as promptly as possible. Thank you for the review as well!


	4. Duty

Saving Faith

Chapter Four: Duty

* * *

As soon as Konoha's lights were in sight, both of them breathed a heavy sigh of relief, even if neither of them heard the other's. 

Shizune took charge as soon as they reached the hospital against a medic-nin's protests, making sure Yuugao was given immediate care by her own hands. It was her way of getting lost to the graver things that had been brought to light over the course of the mission.

Kakashi, on the other hand, was looking forward to getting lost in an S-class mission or two that he might or might not survive. This was one of those times when it didn't matter to him either way.

He was convinced by an adamant set of assistants whose names he didn't care enough to remember that the Hokage would see him and Shizune together to handle their debriefing at the same time, and for the first time in a long time he was forced to wait.

Waiting was a terrible ordeal. It reminded him why he insisted on being late to everything, because then he never had to do it. Everyone else could wait on him, feel that anxiety forming a pit in their stomach, their fingers growing stiff from the clenching and unclenching of his fists. A look at the clock confirmed his suspicions. Only five minutes had passed.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. And it's not like anyone could blame him…

The kunoichi who'd caused him so much trouble waiting rushed into the hallway only two minutes later to find him calm and cool as always, and flipping the pages of a familiar and obviously much-loved orange book. How he could be reading some smutty novel while his friend was in the hospital was beyond her, but she bit back her sharp retort on the subject.

Her venom only showed a little bit when she commented, "She'll be fine, if you even care."

He'd said nothing for several moments, that lazy gaze traveling down the page until, as he turned it, he replied nonchalantly, "I care."

She left it at that, waiting in silence until a few moments later the door was opened and they were ushered inside. Only as they stepped up to the Hokage's desk did he tuck away that unseemly pastime, hands finding homes in his pockets as they stood shoulder-to-shoulder before Tsunade.

"How is she?" No offering them a seat, or tea. Just straight to the point of the matter.

"She'll be fine after resting another day or two. Her wounds were severe but not fatal once the blood loss was—"

"She was attacked by eight grass-nin," Kakashi interjected. He could cut right to the heart of things as well. Besides, he was ready for another mission, and ready to leave.

The earnest that had the Hokage leaning forward over her desk to hear their news now had her sinking back in her chair, repeating that single word. "Eight…"

He had questions but none of them burned as badly in his mind as that need to get away from all of this. Shizune, however, had other ideas.

"Yes, Tsunade-sama. Why would they send eight? What was her mission? I didn't even think she went in as an ANBU officer."

Tsunade sent Shizune a look that silenced her friend in the space of a moment, and then that hard stare was leveled Kakashi's way. He returned it with his usual lazy aplomb.

"I'm not comfortable discussing the details until I hear from Yuugao herself about what transpired. If you're still curious then, come to her debriefing, Shizune. The same goes for you, Kakashi."

The medic had nodded a reluctant assent, but he merely remarked, "I don't plan to be here."

"You'll be here."

"I was hoping to take a solo mission—"

"I know exactly what you were hoping, Kakashi, and I'm not going to give you what you want," the Hokage replied firmly.

"I can—"

"I don't care. You're staying here in Konoha until I say otherwise."

Now the copy ninja was getting annoyed. It was barely evident in his expression, which maintained as ever that half-lidded lazy stare, which had now progressed into something on the verge of a glare, directed at the blonde woman before him. All he wanted was to leave, and he hated being interrupted. Since he rarely spoke, he figured it should be easy enough for people to avoid interrupting him.

With the same smooth yet palpably tense tone, he decided to try again. "I can serve—"

This time a fist slamming to the desk preceded the reaffirmed command and the clatter of the Hokage's teacup in its saucer punctuated it. "You're staying here and that's final." A belated glance was sent to Shizune, and sensing that the woman would begin to protest about her health, Tsunade added a hasty, "Shizune, go back and tend to Yuugao."

When the door had been shut again and the two of them were alone, Tsunade again slouched in her chair, one visibly shaken hand raised to her temples. "I need you here, Kakashi. Things do not bode well with the news you brought. I have to hope Yuugao has better."

There wasn't a need for him to state how much he wanted to leave. Obviously she knew if she felt the need to explain herself.

"She's your friend, isn't she? Don't you want to know how she is, and what happened to her?"

Sure, he wanted to know, but he wanted to forget even more.

"Go visit her in the hospital."

That wasn't happening.

"Or just relax for a little while."

Impossible.

"Get a drink. You look like you could use one."

Sake was one of his least favorite indulgences.

"Just get out of here."

Finally, something he could do.

"But stay in Konoha," followed him out the door.

One thing he'd learned from his life as a shinobi was that there was both too much and too little time in one's hands. In this case, it was the former.

As his sandals shuffled through the dusty village streets, he ticked through that inane list of things Tsunade had suggested. None of them seemed appealing, but if he headed to the bar, Genma might be there, or Iruka. Both of them would want to know what happened to Yuugao, and it would be his duty to inform them.

Duty. That was good. That was something to get lost in. He could handle that.

And maybe meaningless conversation afterward with some old friends wouldn't hurt.

* * *

It hurt. 

He should have remembered that it was never a good idea to approach Genma while he was working a bar solo. It always meant there would be two things aplenty: women, and talk of women.

One of them was already in the blonde-haired shinobi's lap, making a valiant attempt to get that senbon from his mouth with her fingers out of sight some place Kakashi was positive he didn't want to think about.

Without a word, Kakashi slipped into a seat at the bar beside the pair, waving away the 'tender's offer of a drink. His silence was broken when another young woman wandered over, probably to find out what was underneath his mask. That's the reason most of them came.

A simple wave of his hand wasn't enough to deter her, so he finally parted with a crisp, "Not interested."

Those two words were enough to give him away, and the unfortunate young woman in Genma's lap almost tumbled to the floor when he leaned over to clap the copy ninja on the back. "Kakashi! Already breaking hearts tonight, eh? And you've only just got here!"

"I didn't come for women, Genma." Not like that needed to be said, but his friend practically reeked of alcohol. It was a wonder he was still sitting upright. Well, mostly upright.

"Wouldn't do any harm to change your reason for visiting, would it?" Spoken with a chuckle, it was barely out before the clearly intoxicated shinobi was hollering down the bar for someone to get his friend a drink. He didn't notice when Kakashi shook his head to reiterate his earlier decline and the barkeeper chose not to come anywhere near as a result.

"I came about Yuugao-san."

The older ninja scratched his chin – or tried to – with one clumsy finger. "Yuugao, eh? She's a mighty pretty piece, Kakashi. You sure you ain't here for women, after all?"

"She's in the hospital."

Genma arched a brow. It was a wonder his facial muscles still had enough coordination to do that, in Kakashi's opinion. "What the hell for?"

"She was attacked by eight grass-nin." This conversation was already far too tedious, and he had a feeling it would only get worse.

After Hayate's death, Genma had made something of a vow that he'd look after Yuugao, much like Kakashi had been begged to do those years ago when Hayate had first left ANBU. Genma's, of course, had been voluntary, but that made it all the harder for the shinobi to handle when something happened. Instead of the sullenness he'd often displayed in the past, however, the sake in his system translated into anger.

"Why the hell was she attacked by eight grass-nin?" he shouted, his voice quickly rising over the rest of the din and drawing all eyes to the two shinobi near the bar. The fact that Genma's glass was now hurtling to meet the wall in a crash of broken glass didn't help matters. "Who sent her into that sort of danger? That goddamn Hokage? I'll be damned if she ain't got a great set on her chest but she's got shit for brains if she'd send any of us into that sort of thing solo!"

"Don't make a fool out of yourself, Genma. The Hokage wouldn't do that." Kakashi couldn't do anything about the broken glass, but he did restrain his friend further with a visegrip on his right wrist.

"Oh, so you knew about it? You were in on it and you let that bitch send Yuugao into trouble?" His words came in as much of a snarl as the unsteady man could muster.

The barkeeper and other patrons were sent a look of apology from the copy ninja, all while his clamp on his friend's wrist hauled him forcefully outside, where he released him to stumble in the alleyway. Hopefully, the cold air would do him some good.

"Accuse me of things like that again and I'll break your jaw. Go visit her in the hospital if you're that concerned." He gave the shaky shinobi another square shove in the right direction. "Sober up first."

He was pretty sure Genma wouldn't make it to the hospital that night, but at least he knew, and if he even had an ounce of wits about him, he would remember the next day and get his act together enough to go pay a visit. That left others to tell, but suddenly Kakashi had lost his appetite for conversation.

He still wanted to forget.

* * *

In the end, he hadn't been able to. 

He also hadn't been able to sleep, hadn't been able to train, and hadn't been able to even enjoy Icha Icha Paradise. His apartment was too empty, his mind was too clouded with memories, and the image of Yuugao's huddled, bloodied form against that rock on the _Kusa no Kuni_ border had ruined most any other picture for him. When he decided it might be best just to wander with the moon hanging as a dim lantern in the sky, his steps had inevitably strayed to the hospital, sandals soundlessly carrying him down the hallway into the room where she'd been given a bed.

The sight of her dark hair spilling across the white sheets and pillowcase almost caused him to turn around and exit again, for it flashed to life before his eyes a very vivid memory of her lying nearly lifeless against a blanket of white once before that he could remember. But he forced himself past the initial quickening of his pulse to cross the remaining distance to her bedside, having seen the way her brow creased with a frown, and her hand clenched futilely at the coverlet. She was trapped in another troubling dream.

With a deft ease, he plucked her hand from where it fisted and let his own be the object of its fingers curling so tightly, sinking to a seat on the chair already placed there. That same memory kept bobbing to the surface, and rather than fight it this time, he let a single lock of her hair shining violet in the dim hospital light take him back.

Little did he know, she was reliving the same moment in time, one they had shared more than seven years ago.

* * *

It was a shame the ANBU uniforms didn't come with coats. It would have saved them all the quickly annoying boasts of Anko that she, unlike the others, wasn't cold in the slightest, despite the goosebumps covering her bare arms. And it would have saved Yuugao the embarrassment of being not-so-discreetly asked every five minutes by Hayate if she was doing fine without his arm around her. 

Iwashi said nothing at all through the trek, though Hayate joked that it was probably because the other young man's mouth was frozen shut. Kakashi also chose to remain silent as expected, and Yuugao found herself wondering if his mask got wet whether the captain's mouth really would freeze shut. Idle thoughts that she blamed on the way the snow was swirling in front of her to blind her to anything else.

When they finally made camp, it was because in the darkness of nightfall with the snow and fog rising to meet them as they ascended the mountain, even Kakashi's honed senses were dulled. You couldn't track in a blizzard. He wanted to make sure they were headed the right direction, and that meant waiting until daybreak.

Ultimately, Hayate and Yuugao got first shift along with their reticent captain. Iwashi wasn't fit to serve watch until he got a few hours of sleep, and pairing Anko and Hayate would have meant dooming everyone to a lack of rest since they inevitably ended up in some heated debate before twenty minutes would pass. Not to mention, Hayate usually didn't sleep so long as Yuugao was awake.

She was, by now, thoroughly sick and tired of the cheesy insults to her endurance wrapped in pick-up lines and delivered with that false charm. The firelight was enticing because by staring at it she could avoid most of the conversation. At least Kakashi knew, as he lazily flipped the pages of that book he was never completely without, that she didn't want to talk. Any academy student should be able to read the body signals and tell.

Not Hayate.

"Sure you don't need the extra warmth a strong arm around your shoulders can give you, _hebo_?"

She was fed up. It was no wonder her words were delivered in an overly sweet tone that practically dripped like honeyed disdain. "You're absolutely right. A strong arm is exactly what I need. Kakashi-sempai?" Now, where had _that_ come from? No matter, as it was worth seeing the look on Hayate's face when she'd said it.

The look on Kakashi's face would have been priceless had he displayed any sort of emotion. Inwardly, he groaned; the last thing he wanted or needed was to get drawn into some kind of would-be lovers' quarrel. And while Yuugao had as close to a smug look on her face as he'd ever seen on her, Hayate was slack-jawed and staring at him as though he was some kind of traitor. He caught sight of all of this without his eyes even leaving the page he was currently open to, but wasn't reading.

"Yuugao-san, go get some rest." Probably not the response she was looking for, but it would do. Anything to end this misery.

She'd immediately followed the order, grateful for the reprieve. That didn't mean she would actually sleep, but if she closed her eyes, Hayate couldn't pester her anymore.

Apparently, that was the last thing on his mind for as soon as enough time had passed for any normal person to fall asleep, he was asking, "Why doesn't she like me?"

Kakashi hoped that was a rhetorical question, and remained silent in that futile belief.

"I'm charming, I give her compliments, I try to help her…"

Okay, not rhetoric. This was torture.

Meanwhile, Yuugao was rolling her eyes behind their lids. This was proof that boys were stupid.

The captain was in agreement. This boy was stupid. That Hayate could think calling someone clumsy was a compliment or helpful or charming was mildly disturbing. But he was still offered silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of a well-worn page turning in the copy-nin's hands.

"How do you get women to like you, Kakashi-sempai?"

Another inward groan. Teaching someone the ways of the shinobi, if that's what he was even successfully doing at times as Hayate's captain, almost mutually excluded any nonsense about giving love advice.

He decided that saying nothing would only prompt more annoying questions, so he replied, eyes still not leaving his book, "I don't."

"Umm… Well, what do you think I should do?"

This obviously wasn't going to get any better unless he offered something feasibly helpful. The rustle of another page, and the captain finally afforded Hayate a glance with that single eye. "Be yourself." There. He'd relented and done his part to encourage young love according to whatever ridiculous romantic propaganda.

The younger shinobi said nothing for several minutes. Maybe the ordeal was finally over.

Or not.

"Sometimes I'm afraid I won't be enough for her."

At that, Yuugao almost bolted upright. Could this really be Gekkou Hayate showing some kind of emotion besides bluster and bravado?

Kakashi wasn't impressed, nor did he care to get involved in some trifle of an angsty, childish crush. The admission was met with more rustling.

"So many people have been telling me my whole life that I would fail, or that I'd never amount to anything because of the sickness in my family. That I shouldn't become a shinobi, I shouldn't do this or that. What if she thinks the same way? What if she doesn't want someone like me because someday I might get sick?"

It was all Yuugao could do to bite her lip and keep her eyes shut as she shifted where she lay. Did he really know her that little to think she would ever be like those people? Admittedly, she hadn't let him get to know much about her, but if he thought her worthy of his affections, she'd hope he thought her a decent person.

More rustling for a long, pregnant pause in the conversation, and finally, "Try being nice to her and maybe you'll find out how she thinks."

"I—"

"Get some rest, Hayate-san."

But none of them could sleep. And when they set out the next day, it showed in their added sluggishness as they trooped through the snow.

Anko was still bragging about not being cold. She'd probably gotten the best sleep of anyone, if the volume of her voice was any indication. Iwashi and their captain were as quiet as ever, and for once, Hayate didn't try to walk so close to Yuugao that she practically tripped as she had several times the day before. All he'd offered her direction was a polite, "Did you sleep well?" She'd spared him that small smile that revealed none of her secrets and a nod.

Hayate and Anko had begun bickering about something or other stemming from him not offering to put his arm around her the day before, to which he'd replied that she'd claimed she wasn't cold, and from there it had spiraled into some sort of petty argument on several accounts, trailing all the way back to when Hayate had accidentally knocked Anko's kunai from the target board with his while they were practicing one day months ago.

"Quiet."

That's all it took for every sound the small group was making to cease, lithe figures suddenly tense and wary in the nearly blinding swirl of white and little else. Kakashi was at the front, sable gaze drifting toward the treeline he was sure was just beyond their sight. The whistle of the kunai gave him only enough notice to snap back, the blade grazing his cheek but missing its true target.

As the crimson drops fell to stain the pristine snow underfoot, it began.

* * *

Fin.

A/N: Thank you for the continued support. This chapter ended up quite a bit longer than expected, and circled around Kakashi's p.o.v. but I'm rather happy with it, if I do say so myself. As it shifts into the present day again (and Yuugao regains consciousness) it'll turn more Yuugaocentric as it was in the beginning, with Kakashi's and anyone else's takes more of a breath of fresh air now and then.


	5. To Save a Life

Saving Faith

Chapter Five: To Save a Life

* * *

The first sound to break that tangible silence settling around them was Hayate's blade being drawn. As it was, the caress of slim steel against its sheath was barely a whisper, like the snowflake that tickled Yuugao's cheek, or the slightest crunch of snow beneath Iwashi's boots when they all shifted into cover behind a boulder, or the blood that continued to saturate their captain's mask until it dripped from his chin. 

Hayate had the right idea. Shuriken, kunai...all would be worthless in the blinding snow falling so heavily around them. Anko's antsy fingers had already forsaken the loop of knives at her belt, reaching instead for her sword. All of them were now following suit, aimed to be prepared for the onslaught they knew would inevitably come.

But it didn't come in a rush.

It came in the form of a single, soft whistle, accompanying the kunai that flew toward the most visible target.

Yuugao.

Her hair was like a cloud of ebony staining a skyscape of white. It was only logical she'd be the easiest to see and therefore the easiest to hit. The knife was met with a coughed gasp, had slipped through the material of her vest to find a home just beneath her ribcage. One slender arm had been raised to grasp the hilt of her katana on her back, fell now with the other when she tipped backward with the momentum and the pain that spread like the crimson now blooming against her torso.

She hit the snow with a soft thud, alerting the others to her plight and the danger that now crowded them, embodied by several more of the small blades flying in from behind the veil of the impending blizzard. That split-second's notice her fall had given them served them well, but she wouldn't be the last to stain the snow with her sanguine that day.

Lying there on her back, watching wasn't an option. Instead, between nearly lethargic blinks and a painful gasping for air she heard the clash of blades, the scrape of steel on steel, the sharp cries when a blow was soundly delivered. Caught in that moment of almost preternatural awareness, she imagined she could actually hear the blood as it was spilt to the ground that made her bed. One form slumped not too far from where she lay and the horrifying thought that her team members could be dying around her while she lay helpless flashed through her mind.

Then, the incessant _chi_ of her captain's Chidori sounded last.

Silence.

It lasted forever it seemed, her ears met with nothing while her eyes were wide open to a sky of blinding white and the palest icy blue imaginable. She hadn't noticed the clouds before, thought she could see her mother's figure in one and her father's in another. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to sleep, just for a little while…

The pain wouldn't let her. It was burning like a raging fire in her abdomen, tendrils of agony licking all the way to her extremities in each direction. She was suddenly hot, unbearably so, even there in the cold slush with her previously warm blood chilled on contact where it pooled around her. It was hard to breathe and yet easy because she did it so quickly, puffs of blanched air leaving her lips in hasty gasps.

Kakashi's masked visage pervaded her vision first, his Sharingan unveiled and drawing her immediate wide-eyed stare. He wanted her to look, because the moment she saw that spinning wheel encased in crimson she felt relief crash over her figure like a wave breaking on the shore. It was tricking her to think she wasn't hurt, to think she could get up, to speak, to ask about the others.

She was halted by Hayate's face suddenly hovering over hers and a quick, "Don't exert yourself with speech," that came from behind the mask of her deceiver.

Before she could argue that she felt perfectly fine, Anko and Iwashi peeked their heads into her line of sight, answering her unspoken question. They were all alive. Spattered with blood, nicked, and bruised, but alive. Their relatively heavy breaths formed a fog above her that threatened to impede her vision more than the swirl of continued snowfall or the terrible brightness of the sky overhead. As the dark fabric was lowered over the Sharingan, it condemned her back into the depths of that pain.

It must have registered on her features, contorted in a grimace as every sensation – good and bad – assailing her body rose to meet her cognizant thought. Her hand was being held in Hayate's; when had that happened? His voice was the one now pleading with Kakashi to help her, to trick her into being pain-free again.

"No. We're going back."

And with that, her lids finally shut in a long blink that never ended, not until she woke days later with Hayate by her bedside in the hospital.

Now, she felt herself drawn to consciousness again, mind fuzzy in that state between waking and a dream, between the present and the past. Her eyes slowly opened in the fleeting thought she'd see Hayate there, holding her hand again. But not this time.

This time she found Kakashi.

* * *

It had taken all of two moments of reasoning for Kakashi to come to the conclusion that the team needed to abort the mission. No one would die if they turned back, but Yuugao most assuredly would if they kept on. 

Hayate had insisted on carrying the unconscious girl, and his continued pleas that Kakashi use the sharingan to relieve her discomfort further fell on deaf ears. It was far too dangerous. People lost themselves in the power of it, in the illusions conjured. The last thing he wanted to do was injure her more.

Of course, Hayate couldn't understand that. All he knew was that the girl he had developed some overwhelming attachment to was in pain, and their captain wouldn't help her. That was the sort of blind devotion the copy ninja avoided at all costs.

It was the reason he'd pushed everyone away. To save them.

But it hadn't saved any of them in the end.

And he wasn't about to let another member of his team die.

The journey back was hard. No one wanted to stop and sleep, or eat. They pressed each other onward, everyone remembering the sight of that crimson bubbling from Yuugao's wound when Kakashi withdrew the knife, like some sort of coaching menace breathing down the back of their necks to hurry their already chakra-hastened steps. It only heaved and panted at them harder when Hayate's forehead protector, pressed to the wound, began to stain their path with scarlet droplets having been soaked through.

They stopped but once, when Kakashi was finally forced to use a medical jutsu he'd learned from watching Rin once upon a time in what seemed another life now. But it would only buy them time, not secure her survival, and the pause was brief. Yuugao was beginning to look as pale as the snow she'd fallen upon.

By nightfall they were back in _Hi no Kuni_, the moonlight gleaming off each treetop's leaves like dark silk that whispered and rustled and sounded disturbingly as though it was trying to call the fading girl's spirit home. He shoved it out of his mind like he banished that stench of her blood that seemed to assail his nostrils, or the sudden delusion that he could taste copper in his mouth. Now was not the time for idle thoughts.

Back in their homeland, their steps were quicker, surer, Hayate's arms around their fallen comrade were steadier. Iwashi was the only one who'd even attempted to clean up during that almost momentary break, the rest still bloodstained and bruised when they finally saw the hospital in sight. If anything, being so close to their destination made them hurry even more.

No one wanted to leave. Even after Yuugao had been delivered into the capable hands of the attending medics, they lingered. Hayate especially wouldn't go, and with the way he argued so adamantly against being sent from the room, he really would make himself ill, Kakashi feared. But it was for the best, and eventually their captain convinced them all they could return the next morning, first thing if they wished.

He would stay the night.

Come dawn, Hayate arrived much as expected. Circles shadowed his eyes and a gash lined his jaw to trail under mask of his shirt, disappearing behind the collar. He looked terrible.

"You shouldn't have come. Go back home and actually rest."

"I won't rest." Well, at least the boy was willing to admit it.

"You can't let things like this affect you so much, Hayate-san." Words of wisdom, spoken from his captain. He'd do well to take them to heart, the copy-nin thought.

Hayate had almost glared at him. Glared, because there was such intensity behind the quiet look that Kakashi feared a repeat of that one overly emotional display so fresh in his memory. All he got instead was that silent stare.

"Don't tell me not to care, Kakashi." No formalities, no titles, just his name. It would have been rude under any other circumstances. "Even you care."

That had gone a little too far for the stoic ninja's comfort, and without bothering to argue any longer – since he knew it would be pointless anyway – his sandaled feet had shuffled out of the hospital. Seeing Yuugao there had already been something of both a catalyst and catharsis to the pain of his loss, the pain of his past, just as it did now. But now, something was different.

Now, when his lazy gaze trailed upward to scrutinize her features, it met her own open in return.

She was awake.

* * *

Her gaze remained silently locked on his, and for a fleeting moment she remembered what it was like to stare into that swirling crimson of his now covered eye, to lose herself in an alternate reality. She could remember, and she could smile despite what it meant to recall those unfortunate events, because in doing so she was reminded that once again she was alive. She was safe. 

When she finally dropped her gaze, he released her hand, settling it gently on her lap since her right arm was still relatively immobile. It was thoughtful.

"Do you remember what happened?" Alright, not so thoughtful.

He was still primarily business, just as he had been all those years ago. Not that she expected him to change. He was one of the few who never seemed to change, no matter how much time passed. Sometimes she wondered if he even really aged.

"Somewhat," was the quiet reply she gave him in return, paired with one of those small smiles she loved so much.

Maybe he picked up on the hint that she didn't want to spend her first waking moments talking about how she was hurt, because he offered a borderline sympathetic, "Just rest for now and tell everyone at the debriefing. Shizune-san and I will be there."

Such formality. She could sense something was wrong, but also knew he wouldn't want to share the pain.

"Did the two of you...?" Find her. Save her life. Rescue her. Any number of things could finish that sentence. Some people didn't want others to feel indebted, some didn't like to think of their friends coming so close to death. She let him choose the one he could live with the easiest.

"We were assigned to bring you back." His tone was matter-of-fact, detached. Almost.

When she chanced a glance up to meet his countenance, she could see the fog of memory still rolling back. He'd been remembering something, just as she had been. Her dreams were full these days of memories, as if her life was too stuffed with the past to conjure up new fantasies of the future. Maybe he felt the same.

It's why she didn't bother with gratitude. She didn't bother with anything more than her staple smile again. It had been a job. Find Yuugao, bring her back. Mission accomplished.

"I told Genma to come visit you."

Genma. He would be worried. She hoped Kakashi had broken the news to him lightly.

"I'll tell Iruka tomorrow. Both of them will make much better company and conversation."

And Iruka would be worried too. But she dismissed these thoughts because right now she was worried about her former captain.

"Kakashi-sempai..." It was spoken gently, with genuine concern rounding the words.

It was met with silence.

Then, "I don't want to talk, Yuugao-san."

"Not wanting to talk and not being able to talk are two very different things."

"I'm not the socializing type."

"Neither am I."

Another long pause as he found the coverlet over her legs particularly fascinating, refusing to meet her gaze. What finally shattered the silence was the scraping of his chair's legs against the floor as he made to rise. "I'll come back tomorrow."

Injured or not, she wouldn't let him leave like that. Reaching across with her left arm to stay his hand where it still rested against the bed, her dark glance searched what she could see of his visage. What troubled him so? It troubled her even more for not knowing.

"You came here now, Kakashi-sempai. What did you expect?" It was earnestly gentle and softspoken, without a hint of sarcasm or accusation.

"To forget."

He loved to forget, and hated that he couldn't. Kept there only by her hand on his, he'd already retreated back into himself, into the darker corners of his mind, into idle thoughts of a past that didn't know the death he did now. He'd gotten used to death. That alone disgusted him.

Sinking back into the seat, he didn't worry about moving his palm from beneath hers. The touch was comforting, as much as he hated to admit it. He didn't want to need people. Anyone. For anything.

"Did you succeed?" She had the sense to retract her hand when she asked the somewhat intrusive question.

"Yes," he lied.

"Then stay and keep forgetting."

It called him on the untruth without forcing him to withdraw it. It was her way of saying she welcomed his company, no matter how bad he thought it was.

And with that, they fell into companionable silence, both drifting on the tides of memory until, with his head resting on the edge of her hospital bed, he slept, and she dreamt against the pillows of her waking moments all those many years ago.

* * *

Fin.

A/N: I apologize greatly for how long it took me to update. I kept getting sidetracked by this or that. Anyway, 'tis up now. Unfortunately, it had a very makeshift beta-read by yours truly so if there are typos or errors, I would appreciate any and all being brought to my attention so I can edit. Thank you.

And thank you to everyone who has faithfully read and reviewed for me to date. You don't know how much it means. :)


	6. Over and Again

Saving Faith

Chapter Six: Over and Again

* * *

Her body was stiff. One whole side almost felt completely numb, and the other was tight as though she'd never trained her form to be limber whatsoever. All of her muscles were in knots, and as her lashes fluttered open, she found she lacked the desire to even tilt her head to view the room. But that wasn't because of her drowsiness, or the soreness in her frame.

It was because she saw Hayate sitting in the chair beside her bed, figure slouched, arms folded, head tilted back to rest against the wall, and eyes closed in sleep.

How long had he been there? What time was it? A brief glance toward the window proved daylight was still seeping through the cracks in the shades, giving the floor a rich amber streak that told of the lateness of the afternoon. But what day? It felt like it had been hundreds.

Chapped lips parted for a dry cough. She was thirsty. It would be a miracle if she could even rasp out Hayate's name.

She didn't have to. That single hoarse clearing of her throat was all it took to stir him out of his slumber, lids heavy but blinking away their residual weight. It was a minute before he glanced her way, before he got her bearings and remembered where he was and why.

"Get a medic over here now," he called as he clamored to his feet, displaying none of the grace that had earned him his ANBU vest. It was strange to see him without it now, she realized, in that moment before he was shuffled out of sight to make way for the team of medics that suddenly swarmed her.

The cool relief of chakra being pooled into her wound forced the numbness and tension to ebb, leaving her breathing easy, eyes closed, a sigh of relief stifled by the glass of water supplied and held to her lips. Only when she opened them again did she see Hayate, holding the cup in place.

"Thank you." It was soft. Sincere.

"I'm sorry."

That caught her off-guard. It also made her head spin slightly when she tried to shift up into a seat. "Why?" She didn't have the energy to try and play games or don her usual smile.

"I should have protected you, should have—"

"Hayate-kun."

It was instinctive, unplanned, automatic, but the endearment immediately caught and held his attention. Unfortunately, she was just as surprised when it slipped out and she had nothing more to offer him in protest. With a shake of his head to tussle those bangs that perpetually fell across his vision, he continued.

"I'm faster. I should have been able to be there, to deflect the blade. Something. _Any_thing." In his voice she could hear the pain he suffered, as though he'd been the one hit.

"We're a team, Hayate-kun." They shared the same responsibilities, the same privileges…the same dangers.

And then he looked at her, really looked at her. Not the passing appraisal he usually granted her when they walked beside each other or their paths crossed in or out of a room. Not the gaze full of merriment and dancing with his mirth when he teased her or thought his charm should make anyone laugh. Not the roll of his eyes he would greet her rejection with.

He looked at her with everything in his eyes. The ghost of his uncle, looming over his family like a misbegotten legacy of heartache and failed hopes and dreams. The sting of watching someone he cared about suffer, her blood staining his fingertips and the ground beneath his feet. The shadow of fear and doubt that would forever be cast in those chestnut depths she'd never bothered to delve into before.

"You're nothing like me, Yuugao-chan."

There, in his eyes, he showed her how much she meant. How much she was worth, to him, to everyone. How much _more_ she was worth than he would ever be. All the bluster and bravado fell away in light of the very real tragedy they all witnessed and she could only realize she'd been spared the worst of. Sleeping, even due to the dull ache she still felt of a knife to her stomach, was better than living a waking nightmare as they had, not knowing whether their friend would live or die.

She had to look away. She wasn't ready. She could hardly think straight much less deal with this. She couldn't deal with love.

"You're right," she said to the wall.

Silent acceptance.

"You're right, we're nothing alike. I can't wield a katana with such grace even the captain gets caught doing nothing but watching. I don't have any natural talent at genjutsu, or much natural talent at anything. No one talks about how I've restored my family's honor by joining the shinobi against all odds." Her frown still faced only the wall. She didn't want to argue; it was tiring. All of it was tiring.

Either he was shocked speechless, or he also didn't want to argue. She'd never be sure, for the look on his face was lost to her when the touch of his hand taking hers anchored her lashes to blink and never reopen. Something was spoken in that touch that words would have ruined.

For once, they'd finally spoken to each other, and done most of it without words.

Maybe that's what it took, in this difficult, ever-shifting world, to understand another shinobi. One had to kill a man to know his way, or watch him be killed. Something lost was felt more deeply than what was left, just as the scar she'd bear would forever remind her of an unpleasant memory, when time would steal away happier ones.

Hours later when the medics eventually convinced Hayate to leave so she could rest, she didn't mind when he flashed her a cocky grin, didn't mind when he dropped her a wink. Didn't mind when he teased her.

"You can't laze around too long, _hebo_. After all, you need to train your share, too."

She didn't mind, because she could hear the care in his voice.

* * *

When she woke up this time, she met two and a half pairs of eyes. One sable, familiar, belonging to the masked copy-nin, and a very worried set each on the faces of Genma and Iruka.

It was somewhat disconcerting to wake up with three of Konoha's finest, and all male, standing over her. Not to mention, Genma's eyes were not on her face. Her nervous, sleepy shift under the scrutiny is what alerted the others to the direction of his gaze.

"Genma!" That from Iruka, complete with a punch in the arm.

"What? I had to make sure she was still breathing!"

Some things would never change.

"How are you feeling?" Leave it to Kakashi to get down to business. Impersonal business.

She took her time answering the question. Another slight shift afforded her a better view of the damage done, and though her right arm hung relatively limp with its palm in her lap, her thumb twitched, then her forefinger, until all the digits finally curled in a tentative flex. "My arm aches a little."

At least two heavy sighs of relief then broke the silence. If there was a third, it was muffled by that ever-present mask.

"What the hell happened out there, Yuugao? Taking on eight grass-nin? Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

Yuugao flinched at the tone in Genma's voice. Even though he spoke out of concern, it only reminded her that she'd been caught unprepared, and betrayed. Betrayed by someone she'd trusted. The thought that it could have been one of these three…

No. She refused to believe that. They were more than friends to her.

"I was ambushed." A simple explanation, but the truth.

"Eight shinobi don't just appear out of nowhere when they're already on top of you," came a more logical protest from Iruka.

Her silence spoke volumes. Did she admit she was distracted? Confess that she'd just wanted to be home after all those weeks away, even if it meant returning to an empty bed and an empty apartment? Should she tell them she was betrayed?

Genma's weight suddenly landing on the bed at her side sent a jolt of pain through her arm but she masked it with a weak version of that same smile she usually wore. At least she was okay now, wasn't that enough?

Apparently not.

"Don't tell me I have to get one of those vests for myself just to make sure you don't do something stupid, Yuugao. If Hayate could see you now."

That time she couldn't hide the pain that swept over her features before she looked away. She looked pathetically frail in that hospital bed with them around her. It had been so long since she'd realized how powerful the male presence in and of itself could be, and here it was times three.

"That's enough, Genma." Kakashi, on cue, as always.

"It's not like both of you weren't thinking it! When's the last time we've seen you since he died, Yuugao? Since the Third Hokage fell? You barely even made an appearance at the funeral." She knew he was serious because for once, his characteristic senbon was nowhere to be seen. If he wanted someone to take something seriously, he'd stow it out of sight while he had his say.

"That _is_ enough," chimed in Iruka, a stern frown directed to Genma before it turned to her. In his eyes she could see that he agreed.

No word. No visit. She hadn't wanted to be in Konoha. Hadn't wanted to stay in the sudden loneliness. Could they blame her? Hadn't all of them lost someone and wanted to leave everything behind as a result? Her gaze inevitably trailed to the one she knew would understand.

Kakashi refused to meets hers in return. Instead, it was to his comrades he spoke a quiet, "I'm sure Yuugao-san wouldn't mind visiting later, when she's recovered."

Not quite a rescue but it was enough. And Genma was already tired of arguing, it seemed, since the senbon was firmly lodged between his teeth and he was already getting to his feet and disappearing with merely a muttered "damn it all" under his breath. Iruka spared her another few moments of that frown before he ambled after the blonde-haired shinobi, presumably to calm him down, leaving Kakashi behind.

"I'll return later," was all he said, but she knew he agreed with them, too.

Three of them, refusing to let her go, refusing to let her forget. She wouldn't win the battle.

And she wouldn't sit around waiting to be lectured by her old captain, either. The first opportunity she was given she told the medic on duty to fetch her clothes so she could go home. Thankfully, her injuries weren't serious enough to warrant a longer stay than absolutely necessary.

When she stepped out of the hospital, it was raining. Just a light shower, barely enough to shade the ground darker and frost her hair, but it was fitting. Even the weather was trying to carry her back to a place and time she could never truly revisit.

Cruelty, in her mind. Especially when her steps gave in and turned onto the familiar path toward the memorial.

It had been too long, she realized. She'd avoided returning after her initial visit because while Konoha fought to keep the Akatsuki at bay, she'd been fighting a battle against ghosts that refused to sleep as nothing but distant memory.

But she was proud of herself. This time reading his name didn't halt her breath, or wrench her insides, or make her heart bleed. Tears were absent from her eyes. This time, she felt relief. He could be at peace. He could rest while she continued to fight the demons in the world.

The rustle, barely a whisper, of wet fabric alerted her to another's presence. Who else would be out here in the rain?

Sight of drenched silver immediately answered her question. Indeed, who else.

"I knew you'd come here."

He earned himself a wryly-amused smile before her gaze dropped back to the slab of stone before them both. The sandaled steps that carried him to her side had been soundless.

Of course he knew she would come. The moment he'd said he'd return, she'd fled. And they understood each other, on some level—on a level born of pain and loss. She wanted to forget, and therefore, she was forced to remember. It was the reason he'd come to her hospital room the night before. This was his way of calling her on it, just as she'd done to him.

"Since Hayate was killed..."

A slow blink that never reopened greeted the beginning of what she knew would be a painful, forced acknowledgement of what Genma had said earlier. And just as she'd known by the senbon – or lack thereof – that he had been serious, she knew Kakashi was now since he'd peeled away the damp fabric of his mask. She'd seen him without it only a time or two before. Perhaps that was something to be thankful for, even if others tried all they could to see beneath.

"...You've taken more S-class missions than ever before. Suicide missions, some of them, Yuugao-san." Always formality with him, the only one of the trio to insist on it. She knew he thought of it as some sort of protection. Funny that she might be considered some kind of enemy in that regard.

"You haven't returned home unless necessary, and haven't taken sufficient breaks between your missions." Quite the lecture this was turning out to be, and if only the crisp white of an ANBU uniform was staring back at her where her gaze was leveled on his chest, she would have thought she'd been transported back all those years.

And a name would have to be erased from that miserable memorial that flickered a raindrop reflection of the pair of figures before it.

He had no right to say anything, of course. She knew why he came to ANBU all those years ago, and why he had before she'd even become a shinobi, and why there was talk of him wanting to return now. He threw himself into all of it when he was forced to recognize someone he cared for was dead.

"We all mourn in our own ways, Kakashi-sempai."

What she really said was that they mourn in the same way. At least, that's what he heard, and the formality – something he usually savored – only made the statement sting. This wasn't about him, and he wasn't going to let her act like it was. "You've worried your friends."

_Your friends._ But not him, she knew he implied. "I'm here now." It was laughable, how much he refused to say when it already didn't need words to be heard.

"Don't be selfish, Yuugao-san."

That was the last straw. Her indignation manifested itself in merely a frown, a tightening of her fingers into her palm, arm still hanging limp at her side. She didn't throw tantrums, nor did she care to throw around frivolous accusations or insults. Let his conscience condemn him. But she would defend herself.

"I don't wish for death. I want to find a place to forget, not a place for my grave."

"You won't find it between eight grass-nin—"

"That wasn't my fault. I was betrayed."

Maybe now he'd see why Genma had gotten a smile and silence. Why Iruka had been given little more than a sympathetic look. The last thing she wanted to do was worry them sick that the enemy had targeted her.

The slight flex in his bare jaw told her he did see.

"I'm going to the debriefing—"

"Good. Then you can stop lecturing me. You're not my captain anymore."

He was annoyed, it was clear. His visible eye had narrowed slightly at its outside corner, and the tension in his jaw hadn't abated. He didn't like being interrupted and two days in a row by two separate, strong women was mildly infuriating.

She didn't care that he was getting aggravated. She already was. But she did despise bickering with him, just as she despised bickering with anyone she'd grown to consider a friend.

Nothing broke the silence between them for several minutes save the soft patter of ever-growing raindrops off the smooth surface of the memorial. It wasn't a hostile silence but something in it scared her.

"Don't make _me_ put on one of those vests again just so I can tell you the truth about things again."

Humor. It was the last thing she expected.

It was what she needed.

Her laughter came first, barely a chuckle or two that faded quickly into tears. She'd forgotten how nice it felt when someone cared whether she lived or died. When someone cared at all. Now she felt foolish for wanting to forget that feeling.

Even though the rain that fell washed away her tears before they could slip down her cheeks, he knew. In a subtle, deft motion his mask was back in place and, with a hand cupped around the back of her elbow, he was guiding her away with a smooth, "I'll walk you home."

For once, she wasn't forced to walk down memory lane to get there. They enjoyed more of that strangely comforting silence instead, his touch relinquished the moment he could tell she wouldn't fight his suggestion that she return to her apartment. It was a wonder he remembered where it was after all this time. It was almost a wonder how she did.

"Thank you," was offered politely when the doorstep was in sight, offering shelter from the steady downpour for them both in the shadows beyond the circle of flickering lamplight the street's lanterns could offer.

"I'll be at the debriefing." This time it was a promise.

"Thank you," came again, just above the click of the latch when she turned the knob of the door. "Would you like to—"

"You don't need to invite me in."

"It's polite, Kakashi-sempai." And their relationship, if anything, was always polite. "Besides—"

But when she turned, he was already gone, a solitary figure stalking through the haze of rain to find his way from his own memories.

She only hoped he could find what she never had.

* * *

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update. x.x I truly apologize to those of you who had been so faithfully supporting me months ago. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep things running smoothly along from now on, even if it's still a bit slower than before. Thank you again, and as always, reviews of any kind are wholly welcome!

**Edit;** Thank you _so_ much, Killerkki, for pointing out my mistake. I accidentally said Fourth Hokage when I meant Third. That's what I get for having beta readers that don't know a thing about Naruto. ; I do apologize for anyone who was confused by the error.

Also, I understand that the beginning was a bit...ambiguous in terms of where it began (i.e. it's in the past, not the present). That was my mistake for ending the latest chapter merely alluding to the fact that this one would begin with a flashback. Now that the storyline of the present is actually going to be barreling into more of the bulk of the piece, hopefully any confusion about what's past versus what's present will be avoided altogether. Thanks for bearing with me.


	7. A Future with a Past

Saving Faith

Chapter Seven: A Future with a Past

* * *

The sunlight woke her.

A single beam dared to push through the small gap that perpetually hung between the linen shades, tickling across her cheek alongside a random lock of hair. It was gentle and playful, as though it simply sought to coax her out of her sleep without reminding her of the long list of things she'd have to do.

"You forgot to draw the curtains again," she mumbled sleepily, burying her face further in her pillow in hopes the light would catch the hint and make its way elsewhere. Instead, a strong arm snaked around her waist to pull her close, and though the adventurous sunbeam did seem to frolic away from her face, his breath tickling into her ear had just as much the rousing effect.

"But you forgive me." And she did, she always did. There was something about him that made him so affable, so lovable, and it wasn't just the way his calloused hands knew their way across her skin, or that his lips always did the most damage to her resolve when they were stationed at the hollow of her throat. She always forgave him well before things got out of hand, yet they never failed to.

This morning, however, she was at least attempting to keep them on schedule and when his breath whispered its way across her collarbone she opened her eyes…

…only to find herself completely alone.

Beside her, the bed was empty. The other pillowcase was unwrinkled. The curtains still sported that gap and perhaps the sunlight truly had woken her from her dreams for it painted the sheets like striping the amber onto a white tiger. She should replace them, she always told herself, but she never did. She probably never would.

The apartment was the same as it had ever been. Decorated in neutral shades, the only truly personal touch to the place was a worn but comfortable black couch that dominated the too-small living room. As Yuugao wandered through it listlessly – it was still much too early for her debriefing meeting – she only now realized that she'd never noticed the drab décor before. Hayate, he had been the vibrancy in the place. Even now, as she rested a hand on the back of the sofa, she could remember all the times he'd have their friends over, everyone clustered in a tight circle with drinks in their hands and smiles on their faces.

And then the coughing had started, and the company had dwindled, and even the furniture began to forget what it was like to be used and loved. If only she could be so lucky.

She needed a shower. It was a calming monotony, the steady stream of the droplets against her skin. Her arm still throbbed when she tried to use it to reach for the soap but she could ignore it better under the soothing onslaught of the steam and hot water. To think, once upon a time bathing would have been another activity infused with laughter, but now as soon as she turned the faucet off the bathroom was cold, lifeless, empty. Two towels still hung from the rack just as two ANBU vests were in the closet, and two pairs of boots were at the door. Some things she couldn't bring herself to put away.

A knock on the door saved her from further misery at the hands of her bittersweet memories. It was Anko, looking just as headstrong and earnest as she had those years ago when they'd been on the same team. She invited herself in and proceeded to make her way straight to the kitchen and the refrigerator. "What, you don't have anything to eat in here?"

Yuugao refrained from pointing out that she'd only just gotten home, instead adopting one of those characteristic smiles and opening a cupboard where a few cups and a tin of teabags resided. "I have tea."

That must have been fine for the other young woman had simply resigned herself to it with a sigh, retreating to the living room and flopping on that couch that had been so neglected of late. "I always loved this thing. I saw it for sale first, you know. But Hayate had to have it, he said, and you know how he was with things like that."

For a split-second Anko seemed chagrined that she might have stepped on her hostess' toes for being nonchalant in using 'was,' but Yuugao simply continued making tea. She didn't begrudge those of her friends who had managed to move on. She envied them, to a certain extent.

"If I remember correctly, you don't like sugar," was all the younger woman said as she joined her guest, handing over one of the cups she'd just brewed.

"Thanks." Anko always seemed to be in a rush, like she was expecting something magnificent to happen in the next minute or so and she had to be ready. Even now she was fidgety, and she downed the contents of her cup in one big swallow. Not to mention, the anxiety made her almost callously blunt. "So Genma was saying you're in a tough spot and I figured I'd come by and check it out. Those guys are worthless when it comes to actually listening."

Yuugao simply smiled. She didn't agree. But then again, Anko's definition of listening was probably far different from her own.

"Don't worry, he wasn't blabbing about it like he usually does when he gets drunk. This time he was all quiet and sullen. It's how I knew something was really up. And my god, Yuugao, what's with you? How can you live like this? I saw Hayate's boots by the door still. Don't you think it's time to clean up a little?"

While not wholly unexpected, this certainly wasn't what she had planned before heading into an inevitably tense and exhaustive debriefing in a matter of hours. Yet Yuugao said nothing, simply donning that same smile and even giving something of a demurring shrug as she clutched her teacup tightly in both hands. "I do need new curtains."

Anko stared in disbelief. "New curtains? You're kidding, right? All you're doing here is wallowing in your memories of a certain somebody. Now, it probably isn't the worst thing you could be doing but it also isn't healthy."

"Memories don't have to be a bad thing, Anko."

"Oh, the cut the bullshit, Yuugao. I know as well as anyone there's a reason you never come home anymore. Whatever you choose to do is your own business, I'm not going to try and be your mother and say you shouldn't take certain missions like those boys might, but you've got to own up to the fact that all of _this_," she gestured wildly around the apartment, "is why you never come back! Look at this place. It's like some shrine. It's almost creepy. What else am I going to find if I go poking around?"

She said nothing. Whatever she could say certainly wouldn't appease the increasingly-incensed Anko.

"You know what, you're right. Don't answer that. Maybe you just need to get a whole new place altogether. Fresh start, whatever other things they always say. You never know, it could work."

At that, Yuugao finally deemed it time to intervene. "Anko, even if I move somewhere else, Konoha holds memories. And…there are times I don't want to forget." She could be honest, even if she'd never be quite as frank.

"Look, we all have pasts. I'm not saying anything's wrong with it. But dwelling in them? That's where it gets dangerous. Closure, maybe that's what you need. Go after the bastards that did it or something. I'm sure there are still some rotten sand-nin somewhere."

All she did was give Anko a disapproving look. As if this was supposed to be better than hearing the men lecture her on taking dangerous missions.

"Alright, fine. That's probably not the best route, even I can see that. But it's never felt right with any of us, you know. The not knowing what happened or who really killed him and all that, I mean. So you aren't alone in that."

Yuugao wasn't sure if she should be amused by this point. Here Anko was assuming just about everything concerning how she must have felt, and it couldn't have been more wrong. At least it wasn't making her angry, that was a blessing.

"Okay, I get it. You want me to leave. That's fine. I'll come by later. Maybe get you from that debriefing meeting so we can restock your fridge for while you're here at least."

So she'd known about the meeting all along, and still chosen to ambush her this morning? Now Yuugao was slightly annoyed. Of course, none of it showed on her face, which maintained that passive, vacant smile.

"At least let me take the boots, Yuugao. I mean, come on. They're just boots. Standard issue, nothing special about them. Plus they're just in the way here in the hall."

For a moment, she wanted to say no simply to get the other woman out the door, but that wasn't her way. In the end she acquiesced with the slightest hint of a shrug.

Afterward, she sat on the same couch Anko had been praising, staring at the empty spot where the boots had been. Even that slight change made things feel so different—not bad, just different, almost as though coming home would be like entering a strange, new place. For so long she'd been used to seeing two of everything. Perhaps she'd gotten selfish.

When she finally rose to rinse the cups out in the sink, she realized how much easier that had been with Anko's help. Granted, they'd never been the best of friends and barely even understood each other half the time, but removing those boots was one of the best things the woman could have ever done. What Yuugao needed was someone else to have moved on to show her the way.

But that, she chided herself, was simply weakness talking and it was the last thing she had room for in her life right now. She had that debriefing meeting to attend to. At least it would take her mind off things…for a little while.

* * *

At three minutes until the hour, Yuugao was already seated inside Tsunade's office, awkwardly testing the grip of her injured arm as Shizune fussed making tea.

"Do we wait?" Shizune could do more than make tea, it seemed.

"Not anymore. If he wanted to be here, he would have been here. This matter supercedes his penchant for tardiness." Tsunade already sounded upset. Yuugao could only imagine what the news she had to deliver would do.

"Whose penchant for tardiness?"

All three women were shocked to see Kakashi shuffling in, with a minute still left on the clock before the meeting time was scheduled. He said nothing to explain his punctuality, dragging the chair beside Yuugao a few paces away so he could be seated in the third point of a triangle, rather than at her side. Detached, as always.

"Yours," Shizune answered simply, apparently thankful to have more opportunity to fuss over tea.

"What a pity the only time you're on time it doesn't count because everyone was here before you, Kakashi," Tsunade commented dryly. "In any case, we're ready to begin. Shizune, close the doors and see to it that no one disturbs us."

The assistant hastened to the doors, quickly securing them and even remaining on the outside to ensure no one would get past her. It seemed even she wasn't to be privy to the information Yuugao would be divulging about her mission. Or maybe the aide already knew, or maybe she'd be listening at the door. Yuugao thought she could see the shadow of two feet looming conspicuously beneath the keyhole.

"Now, Yuugao, please tell me your mission wasn't a complete failure."

Yuugao perched the cup of tea Shizune had prepared on the corner of Tsunade's desk. She wouldn't touch it again. "I was able to find the girl. They call her Suku, but she prefers Retsujo. She is heavily guarded. Orochimaru, however, does not seem to have made his move yet."

"Suku… What is her lineage?"

"I'm not sure. I believe it is a pet name, of sorts. Short for—"

"_Sukuinushi_," Kakashi finally chimed in. He was clever, even Tsunade had to give him that much. Though with the way the blonde woman glared at him, he'd be wise to keep it to himself from then on.

"Savior. And heroine. It figures. You didn't engage her, correct? Your mission was reconnaissance."

Yuugao shook her head, idly fisting her weakened hand again. "I kept my cover. I was just another civilian, as far as anyone I had contact with was concerned."

"Then why would they send eight men after you, Yuugao? Surely something must have happened. Think. Think very carefully."

Again, she shook her head. There was no easy way to say what came next, and she tightened her fingers lest they tremble. "Nothing happened. But…" Her focus briefly shifted to Kakashi, though he was pointedly looking elsewhere. Leave it to him for that. "I believe I was betrayed."

Even Tsunade was silent, her teacup clattering back to its saucer. Yuugao thought she saw the shadow at the door scuffle back a few paces. Shizune probably had been listening up to that point, possibly more to keep an ear on Tsunade's health than the status of the mission.

Before the Hokage could regain her composure, the raven-haired ANBU continued. "I was quiet leaving. I waited until just before dawn, when only merchants and peddlers enter and leave the village. But as soon as they were upon me, I knew I was more than outmatched, I was—" For a moment she was at a loss for how to explain, but ultimately she pressed on. "They knew how I fought, Tsunade-sama. They knew my jutsu, they knew my training, they knew which hand I used to wield my ninjato…"

Beside her it finally seemed as though Kakashi was paying attention.

Tsunade, on the other hand, remained in shock. "But how?" Yet she kept herself from saying more, instead abruptly rising to her feet and hollering for Shizune to come back inside. The young woman immediately arrived already carrying a stack of scrolls. Yes, she had been listening.

"We'll be getting to the bottom of this. _I_ will personally get to the bottom of this. Yuugao, the hospital staff told me your arm still needs some mending. I expect you to take good care of that limb. You're no good to me at half your strength. Enjoy some time recuperating. Stay off the radar, stay in Konoha."

Yuugao slowly got to her feet, offering nothing but an obliging nod. As much as her heart rebelled at the thought of being holed up with her haunting memories, what she'd said to her former captain at the memorial was true; she wasn't looking for death.

"Kakashi, keep an eye on her."

This time the copy ninja didn't begrudge the order.

"Oh, and both of you, all of you," Tsunade's focus skimmed across Shizune as well, "do not breathe a word of this to anyone. _Anyone_. Do you hear me?"

Another nod signaled Yuugao's compliance, and she was quickly taking her leave. She could sense the hushed steps of Kakashi behind her, and only once they were out of the corridor, out of the building, turning onto the narrow street did she break the silence.

"I'll be fine, Kakashi-sempai."

"Will you, Yuugao-san?"

She stopped. Would it solve all her problems to tell him the truth? That she was lonely and miserable cooped up in her apartment despite that it was the only place for her to go? No, it wouldn't. Would it make her feel better? Probably not. Somehow she was certain he already knew.

When she continued walking, he matched her stride. Hands pocketed, gaze lazily fixed ahead, he was the picture of tranquil and stoic, while she knew her usually placid façade was beginning to wear thin.

"I don't need a babysitter," she finally opted to say, though this time she didn't even slow her steps. Where she was going was anyone's guess. A niggling thought whispered the impossible notion that maybe he knew.

"Iruka would be better suited for that than me."

"Or a drinking partner."

"Genma."

"Or a listening ear."

A pause. "Kurenai, maybe."

"Then what are you good for, Kakashi-sempai?" She was exasperated. The question came out a bit too harsh for her liking, but she couldn't take it back.

Oddly enough, he smiled. She could only see the way his good eye crinkled, and the crease it cut across his mask, but she knew he was smiling. Or smirking. "Nothing. But if I had asked you, I had a feeling that's what you'd tell me you needed."

It was refreshing, amusing. It was heart-wrenching that he knew her so well and kept such a cold front of formality between them. She wasn't sure how to take it. She wasn't sure she wanted to take it at all.

"Should I laugh?" At least her tone made up for the edge to her earlier snap.

Kakashi shrugged. "I don't care if you laugh. Just don't cry. Iruka would give me hell for making you cry. Genma, too."

Now she did laugh. "I'm lucky to have people who care so much."

But he didn't. "Yes, you are."

She sighed, footsteps coming to a halt again. They were on the corner of the main market street, no doubt where Anko would attempt to drag her later. While she knew she could inadvertently be putting herself in 'harm's' way, Yuugao didn't care.

"Don't lecture me again on how I need to take care of myself."

"Considering your betrayal, I know you're smart enough to see how much caution you need to take in the future, Yuugao-san."

"Oh, don't play that game with me. Just tell me what you think, Kakashi-sempai. I'm too old to be coddled any longer. And I'm not one of your students that you're supposed to guide me to make my own decisions. If you think I should quit, just say it."

Whether he was frowning or not she couldn't tell, but he definitely wasn't smiling. "I think if your position in the unit has been compromised, you need to reevaluate things."

"You think I should quit." Now she was sounding like a child, but she couldn't help it.

"If that's best for your fellow shinobi."

Of course he would make it about everyone else. She could have been mad about it, but instead she was simply defeated. Suddenly, she could remember that moment when she'd been surrounded, matched and overmatched on every front because the enemy was one step ahead. To think it could happen to any of her peers formed a cold pit in her stomach.

"Don't ask me to quit. Even Hayate never did that."

"He would now."

"But he's not here!"

A strong hand had fisted around her uninjured arm, hauling her out of the middle of the road to the shade of a nearby corner. "Yuugao-san, I know this has been hard on you and I can't do a damn thing about that. And even though I'm not your captain any longer, I can advise you to consider the consequences. I'm not about to broadcast what happened to you but if anyone else knew they'd be telling you the same."

He was right. In all the years she'd known him, she'd learned that he usually was. This time she wanted to hate him for it but found that she couldn't. She hated herself instead, for being emotional in the first place. Perhaps Anko had been right; living in her apartment, living among her memories, it had gotten unhealthy.

"Anko came this morning," she suddenly found herself saying, though for what it was worth it did cue the release of his grip on her arm. "She took away his boots."

His gaze darkened before it fell away. "It's been four years."

"As if that makes a difference." He would understand.

"Time does."

"How much time?" There wasn't enough time in the whole world, as far as she was concerned. Even now she ached for Hayate because the first time a man she trusted had touched her since him it was nothing more than a grab and a shove out of the thoroughfare.

"A lot," he conceded, though he looked at her now. There was something akin to apology in his glance, but she felt it wasn't really meant for her.

"A lot of what?" chimed in Anko's voice, and Yuugao sighed. It was an unwelcome but inevitable intrusion. Somehow she hadn't truly thought this moment she was sharing with the silver-haired ninja was ever going to last.

"Yuugao-san needs a lot of rest," Kakashi said simply, backing away so Anko could join the conversation more easily. Only then did Yuugao realize he'd still been standing so close. "Make sure she gets it, will you, Anko?"

"Sure thing, but you're welcome to come along, you know. We're just getting some groceries for her place, there's this stall—" By the time Anko had pointed it out, Kakashi was gone. The woman arched a brow. "What's gotten into him?"

Yuugao sighed again. "I don't know," she lied.

* * *

Fin.

A/N: Another grossly overdue update. But my muse has returned, and I fully intend to get this back into gear. Hopefully everyone can bear with me. Again, it lacked a thorough beta reading, so anyone who spots anything please, please, please! Tell me so I can amend it immediately.

I'm not very sure I'm happy with this chapter. But I realized it's more of a segue than anything, despite its length. Fingers crossed I still did the characters justice, especially Anko who plays a much more pivotal role.


	8. Things Change

Saving Faith

Chapter Eight: "Things Change."

* * *

Three days passed in a relative blur. Her arm was healing nicely, still a bit tender but ready for training at its next opportunity. She planned to get in shape as quickly as she could to be back on the active roster.

Of all her friends, she saw Kakashi the least. It was just as well. She assumed he'd tattled on her for Iruka was hell-bent on almost suffocatingly playing her babysitter, and Genma took it upon himself to get her out of her apartment for dinner and drinks every single night—to which Anko would inevitably, and loudly, complain that she'd spent a week's salary on the best food there was to stock Yuugao's fridge and now it was all going to waste. That didn't stop the woman from matching Genma sake for sake every night, however.

"Slow down already, Anko. We haven't even eaten yet," Iruka was trying to counsel her on the third night, but Anko was having none of it.

"I know that. I have to get completely plastered before I hear Genma's bad pick-up lines to our waitress."

"Ugh, Anko, you're such a bitch," Genma shot back, but he was grinning and already pouring both of them another round. "You're just jealous because this time I might get lucky. What do you think, Yuugao? Do I have a chance tonight?"

"Why on earth are you asking _her_?" Iruka sounded offended on her behalf.

"Because she's got class, unlike some other females here, if you know what I mean," Genma delivered with a wink Yuugao's way, and a snicker directed to Anko—who had already punched him in the arm.

Yuugao chose to remain silent. It was her way, to say little but keep her small smile always on her face, even when she was struck with how almost like old times it all was, sitting in a large booth around one table. Unfortunately, someone was missing.

"Mind if I sit?" And to a chorus of acceptance, Kakashi slid into the booth beside her. But someone was still missing.

Genma chose to bring the newest arrival up to speed. "I was just asking Yuugao if she thought I had a chance with the waitress tonight. You know that pretty blonde one, right? Yeah. She's real sweet on me these days."

"In your dreams," Anko snorted.

"And what did she say?" Kakashi asked simply, glancing at Yuugao.

Yuugao still chose to do nothing but offer her small smile. All of her felt small in that moment, sandwiched between the disapproving Iruka and the easygoing Kakashi. Not to mention, she was pretty sure that Anko didn't know it was her leg she was attempting to play with instead of the copy-nin's.

"It doesn't matter. Genma doesn't stand a chance now that Kakashi's here," Anko boasted. Through the years there had been plenty of flirtation – mostly one-sided from what Yuugao had observed – between her and their former captain. Thanks to the drink, it got a bit more overt.

"You guys are as bad as my students," Iruka groaned, snatching away the bottle before Genma could goad things on by pouring the tipsy woman another glass.

"Then we must all admire your patience." Kakashi said it with a smug smile.

Genma, on the other hand, had already flagged down the bartender to bring them another bottle of his finest to replace the one Iruka had pilfered. "How do you do it, Iruka? I see some of those brats during the exams, but I couldn't imagine being stuck in a room with them all day long."

Iruka seemed to perk up a bit at that. "Well, I know every kid in there has the potential to change the world and most of them don't have anyone to tell them so. It's easy in that perspective."

Rather than the praise he expected, Anko snorted again and Genma just stared at him incredulously, holding out his glass. "Sure you don't need something yourself?"

Yuugao felt strongly enough to step in, sending Genma a slight look of reproach and placing a hand gently on Iruka's arm. "You're very noble, Iruka." A slight squeeze before she retreated the touch told him she understood. Both of them were orphans, after all. She knew more than anyone.

"Thank you, Yuugao. You know, if you decide not to go back to ANBU after this whole thing, you should consider teaching. I'm sure you'd be great with the kids," he offered cheerfully, trying not to acknowledge that he was blushing just a bit. For a moment she thought she heard some kind of hope in there.

"Ah…" Her smile slipped mechanically back into place as all the eyes were on her. "I've never really seen myself doing well with children..."

"You and Hayate never…?" Now it was her turn to blush.

"Fuck's sake, Iruka, they were just kids themselves back then," Genma interjected harshly, though he good-naturedly clapped Iruka on the back as he said it. "Besides, Yuugao's job isn't done yet. She just—"

"Needs to learn a few new tricks." That was a surprising contribution from Kakashi's corner.

"Kinky," came from Anko with a whistle.

Iruka's face met his palm while the rest of them laughed and their food was finally served.

Hours later, Genma did succeed in getting the chance to walk the waitress back to her place at the end of her shift, giving the others a cheeky little wave on his way out. Anko had passed out with her head on the table, and Iruka volunteered to drag her home safely. He worried over them all equally, it seemed, no matter the woman's foolish behavior when she was still conscious and very drunk.

It left Yuugao sitting quietly beside Kakashi, though when she rose to say goodnight, he followed suit.

"I'll walk you home." She didn't have it in her to argue.

The night was cold but she felt warm. She blamed it on the sake Genma had finally convinced her to drink. Considering her string of missions, she hadn't had any in quite some time. It felt strangely pleasant in the way her fingers tingled, though she clutched them tightly at her sides.

"I think my leg's about to fall off with the way Anko was kicking me," she eventually said to break the ice, adopting a musing lilt to her usual smile. "I wasn't even sure you got any of the punishment intended for you."

He chuckled. "How nice of you to take it all for me."

"Now you owe me," she laughed. Their pace was slow, meandering through the hushed streets where barely even moonlight stirred the shadows. "She's fancied you for some time." Why she was on this topic was a mystery to her, but she found it exhilarating to have adult conversation that didn't center on missions for once.

He chuckled again, lifting one hand from its respective pocket to scratch the back of his neck. "Maybe once upon a time."

"Seriously? You always treated us all like we were such children compared to you all those years ago."

She could still make out the profile of a smile behind his mask. "You said it yourself, I'm not your captain anymore. Things change."

"So what changed in that case?" _Curiosity killed the cat, _her conscience warned. She ignored it.

"She drinks too much."

It was so matter-of-fact, it threw her off guard. "So does Genma. So do plenty of others."

He still wore that smile, and something mirthful danced in that single eye of his. "Let's just say… I like my bedmates a bit more lucid."

Yuugao blushed. "I can't believe we're having this conversation," she admitted after a moment, albeit a smile inevitably won over her expression.

"Why? We're both adults."

He was right. Things change. But not all things. "Sometimes I wonder whether the others agree. Genma thought I was a kid at twenty."

"Oh, Genma knows you're an adult. Believe me."

She blushed again. For the life of her she knew she should change the subject but failed to come up with something different to talk about that wouldn't scream 'rough segue.' "Iruka still treats me as though I'm helpless."

"Maybe he just thinks you need protection."

"Well, I don't."

His silence seemed to imply he disagreed. It was aggravating.

"I can handle myself. And for what it's worth, I fully intend on going back out in the field as soon as I've gotten a chance to train my arm back to full strength."

Surprisingly enough, he didn't argue. But he said nothing, and that was almost worse.

"Do you still think I should quit?"

"I think you need to learn a few new tricks. I meant that."

They were nearing her apartment now. She found that she was already dreading the thought of him just dumping her there and walking off as he had those days before.

Unfortunately, that thought translated into a slightly argumentative, "So things haven't really changed all that much, and you're here offering your expertise?"

He was remarkably cool-headed in light of the makings of an outburst that was for her. She envied that about him. "I can help you train, if that's what you want."

_If that's what you want._ He almost made it sound like a chore. But she knew that was simply her pride rearing up, and she forcibly silenced it. "It couldn't hurt."

"Tomorrow, then."

Only as he said it she realized they'd already reached the stairway to her place, and he was presumably offering that tidbit as an acting goodnight as well. "Kakashi-sempai…" she began, but words failed her.

"Don't invite me in."

That stung. "Why not? It's polite." He liked polite, or so she thought.

His gaze was inscrutable as it met her own for several moments, and finally he offered a quiet, "I don't want to have to refuse the offer."

"What? Why would you…" But as she searched his face she knew why he'd said it. Of all of them, he did understand her best. He knew she wasn't living alone.

"Tomorrow."

Her spirit wanted to rebel, but more than anything she felt a surge of relief that he, at least, still held Hayate in high enough regard. Yet it was a double-edged sword. She knew without asking that he was still quietly encouraging her to move on. Four years, he had said. It hadn't even seemed like four weeks yet.

"Tomorrow," she echoed, because there was nothing more she could say.

She knew she must have imagined it but for the briefest moment it seemed as though he had more he wanted to say. Instead, he was gone by the time she reached her doorstep.

* * *

True to his word, Kakashi had arrived at the training grounds just outside the village at half past six. Yuugao had already been exercising for well over an hour, but he'd taken a detour.

Hardly a day went by that he didn't visit Obito's memorial. Today it was with a modicum of humility. He felt conflicted over his behavior the night before. Maybe it was wrong to push Yuugao so hard. Still, all he could do was push her. Moving on was a choice she had to make for herself, not something he could do for her.

Like he was even the one who could do it for her.

Nevertheless, he'd consoled himself with the fact that Hayate would have wanted it. Obito had meant for him to carry on. Friends always did. The people who cared…well, it was a lot easier to be the one fallen than the one left behind. Kakashi knew from experience.

Now, he was watching Yuugao bend and flex her previously injured arm with some simple target practice.

"Care for a spar?"

She'd jumped at the chance—literally. Her first attack had almost resulted in a fist connecting with his jaw, but he was quick enough to avoid the blow. She was much better than he'd remembered but it had been years since he'd seen her in action, not to mention, up close and personal.

Even as she launched a kick toward his shin, he could tell she was holding back. She always held back. It was her trademark, always keeping some energy in reserve, focus honed on getting the most done with the least effort required. Her cunning and skill was admirable, even beautiful.

And though she'd never mastered a blade as well as her late beloved, she was flawless with a katana in her hand.

That was, until he noticed her habit of dropping her guard just a little on the left side, and the lack of steady footing she had when summoning certain jutsu. If the enemy knew her secrets surely these were among them.

Twenty minutes later they were at a relative standstill. Sweat was soaking the headband protector draped over his eye. "Enough for now," he finally said, and dragged the back of his glove across his upper lip, tucking his shuriken back into the pouch on his belt. "It's time to teach you a few new tricks."

She was panting as she retrieved a flask of water, taking a healthy drink before she tossed it to him. "My arm's still weak," she confessed, giving the limb a shake before it slid her sword back into the sheath between her shoulder blades. "I think a day or two, like this, it should be good as new."

"You're not making excuses, are you?"

Her laughter was a bittersweet sound to his ears. If only under better circumstances. "I'm merely warning you I might not meet your expectations, Kakashi-sempai."

So she remembered. He couldn't help but chuckle.

Several hours later he had her doing drills on a new technique he'd taught her that would accommodate for her weaker side. Iruka found them, Yuugao busy aiming at a tree while the copy-nin leaned against another, one hand in a pocket while the other held that familiar orange book open for his perusal.

"You're reading that while she's working her ass off?"

Kakashi shrugged. "I wanted to know what happened next."

"You're treating her too hard." Iruka was careful to say it under his breath, apparently afraid of what Yuugao would think if she overheard.

Again, he shrugged. "I'm treating her like she treats herself."

"Like a student?"

"The wisest men realize all our lives we are students."

"Stop being smart with me, Kakashi. You know what I meant. You're treating her like she's inferior."

His gaze darkened. The look he gave Iruka clearly told the other man to take back the insinuation, though he did part with a calm, "As I said, I'm treating her as she treats herself."

Iruka threw up his hands. "Whatever. She's tough, I'm sure she can handle it. Strong. Unbreakable, even."

Kakashi frowned. She wasn't unbreakable. Far from it. Iruka had to be blind not to see that.

Yet the young man was blind, and had been for quite some time. Blinded by a childhood crush on the same woman who had inspired such foolish devotion from Hayate in turn. At least Iruka hadn't made a fool out of himself over it…yet.

No, Uzuki Yuugao wasn't unbreakable. She was like the porcelain mask she wore. Heavy, yes, but likely to shatter upon impact.

Kakashi was just hoping that impact never had to occur.

"Hatake Kakashi!"

The nasal voice of the young man rushing toward them broke through his thoughts, and his fleeting notion to advise Iruka of Yuugao's fragile state. He never would have actually said something. In some way it would have been betraying a confidence, despite that the confidence was never really spoken.

He recognized the young man as one of the aides who typically pushed papers for Tsunade. "Yes?"

"Is Uzuki Yuugao with you?"

It was Iruka who motioned toward Yuugao in the distance, still sending kicks at her targeted tree. "What's this about?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I was only told to relay my message to Hatake Kakashi and Uzuki Yuugao," the youth said, breathless. Perhaps he'd been silly enough to run through the entire village before finding them.

"What message?" Kakashi interjected, not giving Iruka a chance to protest.

The aide's focus wavered to Iruka, but ultimately the importance of his task was burning a hole in his mouth so he had to have out with it. "Another ANBU was ambushed. This time in Sound."

"Are they—?"

"Alive. With Tsunade-sama. She asks that you come at once." Somehow to say the Hokage was asking seemed a gross understatement.

"Of course."

The young man ran off as quickly as he had come, and Kakashi tucked that book out of sight as Iruka tried to formulate any number of questions. Only one really came to mind. "What does this have to do with Yuugao?"

"Just make sure her things get back to her place safely," Kakashi said, already headed toward where Yuugao was training. "Yuugao-san, we've been summoned."

Their training was over for the day.

But there would always be tomorrow.

* * *

Fin.

A/N: Not much to say except thank you for reading, as always. I was afraid the first conversation seemed disjointed, then I was afraid things were moving too slowly... If you have an opinion, please don't hesitate to voice it! I love getting critique and criticism.


	9. Many a Tear

Saving Faith

Chapter Nine: Many a Tear

* * *

The young man shifted uncomfortably in his seat even before Yuugao and Kakashi took theirs. A bandage was wrapped tightly around his head, and occasionally he would sneak a finger beneath where it shrouded his temple to give it a scratch. He seemed ill-fitted to his own skin.

Yuugao only recognized him in passing and couldn't remember his name. That probably wasn't saying much for the ninja.

On the other hand, she was already distracted by the sweat staining her lycra shirt. She'd been training hard on purpose, and when Shizune politely offered them all tea, she took hers eagerly and had to force herself to sip it slowly. Her apologies over her currently disordered appearance had been profuse.

And promptly waved away in light of Tsunade's near palpable anxiety.

"Enkou discovered this on his attackers," the Hokage cut straight to business, passing a thin notebook across the desk.

Enkou seemed to fidget under the burden of credit. Kakashi took the pamphlet and began flipping through it. Yuugao was left to sip her tea and attempt to not squirm as a drop of sweat rolled down her back.

"Troubling," was all he said before he handed the book to her.

"Troubling? Is that all you have to say? _Troubling?_ You realize what this means, don't you? The entire force is in jeopardy. Every man and woman in the field this very moment." Shizune was immediately at Tsunade's left trying to tell her to calm down or it would be bad for her health.

As Yuugao flipped through the pages, her fingers involuntarily began to tremble. Tsunade was right. They were all in danger. For there, on those handwritten pages, was detailed information on every single member of Konoha's ANBU squad. Their height, weight, age, even the markings on their masks that identified them from the rest.

In some morbid fascination she continued to turn the pages. One or two had red lines inked across them; she could only assume the worst for what that meant. Soon enough she reached her own, and as she traced a fingertip across the small rendering of her own mask, she shuddered.

There was a large red circle around her name.

She quickly closed the book and perched it on the edge of Tsunade's desk, suddenly awash with the desire to scrub her hands.

"That was in Sound?" she quietly asked, her focus skipping sidelong to where Enkou was now tapping a thumb incessantly against his knee. He was right to be nervous, she knew now.

"Y-yes," he stammered, but he didn't meet her eyes.

"Clearly they are in league. It must be Orochimaru's doing." Tsunade was now pacing. "Perhaps this is what he wanted all along, to bide his time and pick everyone who might oppose him off, one by one." A finger pointed to the book. "I wouldn't be surprised if there was one of those for every village."

Enkou continued to fidget so much it was making Yuugao sweat even more.

"I'll be withdrawing all active squad members from the field immediately. No new orders will be given out while we assess what damage has already been done. If there is a connection, somehow, someone on the inside must have fed them information. I intend to find out who."

For some reason that seemed to offer little relief to Enkou.

Yuugao herself found it disconcerting. Every mission aborted, and for what? Someone knew everything about them all. Perhaps her reconnaissance in the grasslands hadn't been quite as covert as she'd hoped. Perhaps this was all…

"Tsunade-sama, I request permission to travel to Otogakure to see what I can discover about this treachery."

Even Enkou stopped fidgeting at that.

"What?! Of course not. That's completely out of the question. Yuugao, have you lost your mind? I admit, you've taken a few dangerous missions of late, but I refuse to send you in when death is not only certain but inevitable."

Yuugao could tell Kakashi's mouth was set in a grim line behind his mask. "If anyone should do it, it should be me. I've faced them already, but I've been training. I might surprise them." It sounded like a weak, outside chance even to her ears, but she pressed on. "If this stems from an error I made in my earlier mission, I would never be able to live without the opportunity to rectify that mistake."

Tsunade seemed as floored as the rest of them, finally sinking back into her seat and rubbing her temples. Shizune, as ever, was immediately beside her, but the Hokage waved her away.

"Yuugao, I refuse to send you in to the lion's den unprepared."

She knew both men on either side of her, even Enkou, were about to offer their protests and she quickly cut them off before they could. "I wouldn't be unprepared. As I said I've been training, and I know about this." Her fingertip tapped the book she didn't dare touch further.

"This is ridiculous. Completely out of the question."

Enkou began to squirm again, even more uncomfortable with the tension rising in the room. Kakashi, however, sat stock still as if he was half-asleep. Leave it to him to offer her no support.

"Tsunade-sama, if someone doesn't do this, what are the other choices?" Out of her ingrained sense of respect, Yuugao did not name them, but they were few and grave. They could disband the entire force. They could wait like sitting ducks as Orochimaru possessed his new 'vessel' and brought the whole world into ruin. "On behalf of all of us, I beg you. Please let me go."

"She has a point, Tsunade."

Yuugao was shocked that Kakashi had offered that, and she looked at him incredulously. Was this going to turn into some lesson he could teach her later? Perhaps not. His expression was passive, but sincere.

Enkou simply coughed.

Tsunade still seemed torn. It showed on her features, which suddenly seemed to be just a bit more worn than Yuugao could remember seeing them before. The weight of the world was on this woman's shoulders, and she certainly didn't envy her that position.

"Very well. One week. I need that time to cancel all the current missions and take stock of our forces. In one week you can go."

They continued to sit there in heavy silence for several minutes, until at last their Hokage waved her hand and they knew they were dismissed. Enkou didn't need to be told twice for he was already racing out the door, as if in a desperate drive to go nurse his wounds. For some reason, Yuugao pegged him for a heavy drinker that night.

Meanwhile, she would be heading home for a shower, and she rose without a word. Only as she stepped into the street, painted with the amber hues of the sunset, did she realize Kakashi had invited himself along as usual.

For a long time she said nothing. There wasn't anything to say in light of her upcoming departure. She already knew how he felt. All he would expect her to offer was goodbye.

He said nothing. His hands were pocketed, his gaze as lazy as ever as it remained ahead. Chances were he could walk her home blindfolded by now.

Only when they reached that little bend in the road that lead toward the stairs up to her door did she finally speak, steps slow but not halted. "Why did you speak up for me in there?"

With the way he stayed silent she thought he might not even answer her question. But this time he walked her up that flight before he paused. "Because no one can teach you not to run away."

Of course. What had she expected? That he'd suddenly praise her for her decisions? That he'd agree wholeheartedly that something needed to be done about the joining forces of Sound and Grass?

"I'm not running away," she stated crisply.

It was a lie and they both knew it.

"I have to do this," she continued, meeting his half-gaze with the full intensity of two dark brown eyes. "If I don't, everyone will just remain in danger. At least this way I can try and do something about it. My sacrifice can mean something."

His expression darkened when she used the word 'sacrifice,' but still he said nothing.

"I'm not going to lay down and die, Kakashi-sempai. I refuse. This is me fighting for myself, fighting for everyone, fighting for _you_. With both hands." She raised them now, clenched and, to her shame, still barely trembling.

In the blink of an eye he grabbed hold of them both, his fingers around her wrists. "How do you intend to do anything with these when you're using them to clutch so tightly to the past?"

It cut her to the quick. _A lie_, her mind told her to scream, but she couldn't. Such a wretched, unfair truth, but it was a truth all the same.

The tears burned as they filled her eyes. He was gone before the first one could fall.

* * *

She planned to tell the others at dinner. The fact that no one came breaking down her door in the meantime meant Kakashi hadn't relayed the news already. It was a small relief.

Genma was alone at the bar. At first she toyed with the notion of putting off telling him, but ultimately realized it might be best to tackle one at a time. That way there would never be a whole table full of them disapproving—or so she hoped.

"She'll have water," the blonde said as she slid onto the stool beside him.

"I came all this way and you won't even buy me a drink?" she teased him, trying to keep things light, despite that she was certain even that jest would tip him off.

She was right. He regarded her quizzically for a moment and then flagged the bartender down again for an amended, "One glass each of your finest."

As the man shuffled to fill Genma's order, Yuugao sent her friend another of her small smiles. "What's his finest?"

"Not sure. Hope it's something that burns, though. Unless you're going to really shock me and say I'll like whatever it is you came to tell me."

For a moment her heart caught in her throat. Genma, for all his charisma, often wore his heart on his sleeve.

When the drinks were served she closed her fingers around her own, hesitating a moment before she began, "There's no easy way to say it…"

Surprisingly enough, he hadn't touched his glass. Instead, he was leaning back, arms folded across his chest, teeth clenched around his characteristic senbon. "You're leaving."

She frowned. "Kakashi—"

"He didn't have to tell me, Yuugao. I get it. We all know you've been having it rough being back. Guess we shouldn't have pushed you so hard. It's just that you can't move past something unless you're staring it in the face."

Now she finally dared to take a sip. The stuff didn't burn, but it also didn't taste very good. It made her tongue numb. "I am moving past it."

"Maybe. Now that Anko pried those boots out of your place and Kakashi's been breathing down your neck about the whole thing. And don't tell me he hasn't. I've had half a mind to kick his ass over it but I know he just thinks it's good for you."

Another sip. "I'm tired of people trying to guide me toward what's good for me."

It was Genma's turn to frown, though it was replaced just as quickly by a cheeky grin. "Hell, if you're looking for the opposite, all you need is a dozen more drinks and a night with a guy like me."

For his sake she laughed.

"So why don't you tell me where you're going," he suggested as he casually tipped the full contents of his glass back in one shot.

"On a mission." She opted to set her glass aside, only half empty.

"I heard a rumor that Tsunade isn't approving anymore for the time being." He eyed her suspiciously. Yes, it was best not to do this under three wary gazes.

"I'm going into Otogakure to get to the bottom of everything." Best to just rip off the bandage all at once.

Genma's eyes about bugged out of his head. "What? And that bitch approved it? Fuck me, what has gotten into her lately…" The last comment was more of a mumble than anything.

The outburst caused Yuugao to reevaluate where they were. A few people had looked their way, but for the most part the bar was only sparsely populated. Still, she didn't want to take any chances.

"Walk me home tonight," she suggested, but it wasn't really a suggestion at all.

As they travelled down the dimly-lit path, he draped an arm around her shoulders just like Hayate would have once upon a time. It took her back, but more importantly made her thankful. She could tell he needed the closeness even more than she did.

"Why the mission, Yuugao? Tell me the truth."

"They might come for me anyway. I'd much rather surprise them and strike first. If it means I can help even one of my comrades, it's worth it."

The slight flex of his bicep behind her seemed to be his only disagreement. He was pensive, an expression she found almost oddly suited to him. Briefly, she regretted that it was under these circumstances she got to see it.

"When do you leave?"

"A week."

He quirked a smile. "Then at least we'll have a week to see you off properly."

Again, for his sake, she smiled.

They'd reached her apartment before she even knew it, in the companionable silence that had been shared between them. Before that evening, Yuugao would have doubted Genma capable of companionable silences.

"I hope you realize you don't have to prove anything to anyone, Yuugao."

This time her smile faltered, but she quickly mustered it again. "Yes, I do. I have to prove it to myself."

He looked smug. "Well a man can't argue with that." His arm slid from her shoulders.

"Do you want to come in?"

That senbon wiggled as he laughed. "Nah, I shouldn't. Everyone's too restless tonight. Your reputation would be in the toilet."

"How chivalrous of you," she said with a smile. Underneath the placid surface, she had to admit it stung that everyone but Anko seemed to be leery of her apartment.

"You know, Yuugao, if it's just a matter of being lonely…"

At least that granted her some reprieve from the sting. "I'm not sure you can keep me company without affecting my reputation one way or the other, Genma." However, there was a serious note to his comment and she felt obliged to add, "It's not."

"Good. Pretty thing like you shouldn't be lonely. You've still got plenty to live for." He just couldn't stop himself.

"I'll be coming back." Yet she lacked conviction.

And he knew it. "Get some rest. I expect you to be training hard."

For a minute or two there was nothing but awkwardness, because Yuugao refused to say goodbye. She knew everyone was anticipating it. She wouldn't allow them the satisfaction.

In the end she opted to give him a kiss on the cheek for all of his chivalry, and when she climbed into bed she dreamed. She dreamed that it wasn't Hayate's body in a pool of blood, but hers.

* * *

The memorial was deserted come nightfall. Occasionally a candle might be lit, or the trees might seem to rustle a lament. But for the most part, Kakashi was always completely alone.

That Genma had come there meant he was trying to find him. It couldn't be good.

"I spoke with Yuugao."

At least he hadn't been drinking – much – beforehand.

"I can't believe you knew she was taking such a suicide mission, Kakashi. Have you lost your head, too?"

Kakashi remained where he was, leaning against a tree. The shadows seemed to like having him there, as told by the way they virtually swallowed his figure whole. "It's her choice."

"Bullshit." But now Genma was just blowing off steam, because even he could see it was Yuugao's choice. "She can't go alone."

"I agree."

"Then why didn't you speak up whenever she got this stupid idea in the first place?"

"It's complicated."

"Like hell it is." A brief pause, and Kakashi noticed the silhouette of a senbon was missing from Genma's mouth. He was serious. "I'm going with her."

"I doubt Tsunade would like that."

"Who gives a fuck what she would like? I'm going and if she wants to try and stop me, that's all she'll be able to do. Try."

Kakashi chose not to argue further.

"So are you with me or not?"

That gave him pause. "How many other people did you tell this to?"

"By the—Kakashi, do you take me for a fool? Nobody. Anko would just make a stink and Iruka would get too choked up over Yuugao to do anyone any good. You're level-headed enough to still get the job done."

At that, he couldn't help but smile. "I find it amusing that you'd be the judge of who's level-headed."

Genma merely smirked. "Yeah, maybe. I deserved that. But I'm right, aren't I? So are you in?"

It was almost insulting that Genma would have to ask. Almost. "I'm in."

Genma flashed him a grin. "Great. I'll tell Tsunade. Break the news to her gently like only I can." He hesitated before he left, asking, "You training with Yuugao tomorrow?"

"I suppose."

"Don't be too hard on her."

As the blonde walked off, Kakashi began to wonder if he was the only one who saw how hard Yuugao was being on herself. With just one week left, he had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

* * *

Fin.

A/N: I've hit inspirational paydirt, or something of that nature. Sorry to inundate any of my readers with so many chapters at once!

The title of this chapter is a subtle reference to that oooold song "It's All in the Game." Maybe that helps put this all in context. Also, Midnight Hour's lovely ballad "Running Away" serves as the perfect theme for this chapter. I'm not sure if any of you are like me and listen to music as you write, but that song did inspire much of the driving emotion behind Yuugao's poignant scenes with Kakashi and Genma respectively.

I keep worrying that things are moving too slowly. But I realize I'm just laying some (hopefully good and thorough) groundwork for what's to come. If you have an opinion, please let me know. Reviews are greatly appreciated.


	10. Value to Survival

Saving Faith

Chapter Ten: Value to Survival

* * *

Kakashi surprised her the next morning. When she arrived to the training grounds at six, he was already waiting.

He was dressed in ANBU blacks, as they'd all grown to call them. They fit him well; she reasoned that he must have stopped by headquarters to pick up a new pair, considering he was hardly the same build as he had been at twenty-one.

Of course, he'd still seemed incredibly intimidating back then.

Now that nearly ten years had passed, she had a much better perspective on things. He was still tall, still lean, even if he had filled out quite a bit around his shoulders. He was still handsome, though he still had that mask staunchly in place while he'd shirked his vest. She caught him in the process of tugging on his gloves, fingertips still missing. She'd always wondered why that was but never thought it her place to ask.

"Early today," was all she commented as she dropped her bag to the ground.

"I wanted to make sure we had time."

As if the entire day wouldn't be enough time without an added thirty minutes. She chose not to say that. "I'm ready when you are."

"Another spar." This time it wasn't a question.

She was more than happy to oblige.

"Without your sword."

It was spoken with enough authority that she shrugged out of the strap that held the sheath in place without a second thought, albeit she did hesitate slightly. It was the first key in realizing he wanted her to be wholly outmatched in this fight.

The second was his fist connecting with her side, sending her skidding back several paces, slowed only by the dig of her boot into the soft soil. He'd taken the offensive and chosen to keep things simple with taijutsu. Perhaps she should have thanked him. While she was nowhere near a specialist it was by far her area of expertise.

She was still pathetically outmatched.

Part of the problem was his speed. Before she'd managed to catch her breath he was there, a swift kick sweeping for her ankle while a twist caught it even when she attempted to dodge. With a soft thud she was on her back, rolling out of the way just as his fist crashed down to bury where her shoulder would have been.

Only as she regained her footing did she realize it wasn't where her shoulder had been at all.

He'd missed.

On purpose.

"Stop playing with me," she growled, insulted and incensed as a result. That he would trifle with her even if he was her superior was an affront.

The reply she received was a bolt of lightning charring through a rivet in the ground just inches from her feet. Finally.

Lightning. Wind. Fire. Water. Earth. Lightning. The cycle continued. He could match her every elemental jutsu, devastating her attacks, supplanting her footing, pushing her back when she was admittedly weak in an area. At least her years in ANBU hadn't come to nothing; she kept her own for twenty minutes.

And then an hour. And then two.

He was still holding back. It infuriated her. Unfortunately, everything she used to goad him into hitting her full force was easily deflected. Her only success was the swipe of a shuriken across his bicep during a series of tricky maneuvers when he'd been laying his traps for her and made half of a misstep.

Now, three hours in, her chakra reserves were all but depleted by her latest ploy, _Kage Bunshin no Jutsu._ All she was hoping for was the means to divert and distract, to land one hard blow before she'd be forced to fold her hand and the fight.

But as she formed the seals for her last technique, she saw him peeling away the cloth from his sharingan and knew she'd lost.

It was all she could do to close her eyes before he was upon her, one hand pinning her favored right arm behind her back, while the other held a kunai gently to her throat. Her shadow clones melted away. "You'd use that on me," was all she could murmur in disbelief.

"The enemy would never have hesitated."

He was sweating, that was her only consolation. She could feel the slight stickiness of his skin with every panting breath she took, their chests pressed against one another.

"What do you want from me?" They both had known she'd never win the fight and now she didn't dare open her eyes. Years ago she'd seen the tomoe spinning and it still had the ability to send a chill down her spine.

"I want you to give a damn about yourself because I do."

The last three words pounded in the silence between them. It was a heated statement, but not nearly as hot as the breath that tickled her lips through the fabric of his mask. For the first time she realized how close he really was. So close she could feel his heart thudding in his chest, she could feel his arm flex as his fingers tangled even further in her hair, she could feel his anger abating before the cold point of the knife relented from her flushed skin.

Without looking she knew his gaze was following the blade, across the erratic shift of a shadow across the hollow of her throat as she breathed, burning its way onto her mouth. It settled there and now she didn't even dare to move.

He cared. He cared whether she lived or died. He wanted her alive.

He wanted _her_.

Her free hand instinctively rose to the side of his face. One fingertip found the scar on his cheekbone and followed it to the edge of his mask.

"I know what I'm doing," she whispered before she knew she'd said anything at all.

But even the trees mocked her. _No, Yuugao, you have no idea,_ they said as they shook with a passing breeze. They continued to shake, more and more violently, as if they were laughing.

The kunai was but a memory now, replaced by calloused fingertips tracing the curve of her neck. His hand in her hair was still tangled, anticipating. As she gave the cloth a slow tug, she felt his entire figure tense…

And when she opened her eyes, he was gone.

_Yuugao, Yuugao, you've done it this time,_ the trees seemed to say, echoing the voice in her heart. She could feel the tears in the lump she swallowed.

"I know what I'm doing," she said louder, only for it to get stolen away by the wind.

The trees still laughed.

* * *

The next morning she trained alone. That night she ate alone. She nursed her wounds alone. She figured it was for the best. If she was going on this mission alone, it would just hurt having to say goodbye.

Shinobi of every level were trickling back home. There were happy reunions, some not-so-happy outbursts over aborted missions, and plenty of business to keep the restaurant district booming. Yuugao steered clear. To her, it was more of a façade than anything. Even her friends' repeated requests that she join them for dinner again went unheeded.

It wasn't until five days later that Genma caught up with her at ANBU headquarters.

She'd brought Hayate's vest, intent on turning it in, letting it be reused, letting it save someone else's life like it had his a time or two before it was relegated to a spot in their closet. He'd want it that way, she knew. It had just taken some time for her to come to terms with it.

"That's my girl," Genma had said when she set it on the table and finally let go.

"When I come back, things will be different," she offered, with one of her small smiles.

Genma grinned. "Sure they will." He'd slipped an arm around her again as they walked, ignoring the murmurs it sent through the crowd milling about. "I don't suppose Kakashi let you know we'll be there to make sure you do come back, huh?"

She tensed. "No," was all she said. Had he known that morning they fought? Certainly he would have told her if he had…wouldn't he? She hadn't seen him since. "When was that decided?"

"Oh, that night after you told me you were going. Didn't sit right with me. Took me a few days to get Tsunade to see reason, though."

So he _had_ known, and just kept it to himself. She was annoyed. "Just the two of you?"

"More than three would be too suspicious sneaking into Sound, don't you think?" His senbon quivered as if part of some inside joke.

She knew she should be relieved. Grateful, even. Happy that at least they cared enough to take her wellbeing so seriously. It was that knowledge that allowed her flare of anger to simmer and dissipate entirely. "I'm glad."

"Now I doubt that. But maybe you'll realize we're not trying to steal your thunder."

Her smile following that comment was genuine.

"So, will you forgive me enough to come to a celebration dinner tomorrow night before we all leave?"

She kept her smile in place. "I don't know…"

"Oh come on," he said with a squeeze, yet he shrugged his arm back to his side after that. "Everyone will be there. It'll be like old times." Except for one glaring difference, and even he could acknowledge that. He did so with a scratch at his chin and an amended, "More like the beginning of some new, great times."

"How could I ever refuse?"

He flashed her a crooked grin. "You can't. Trust me, you'll have a good time. It won't be anything too big. I know you don't like crowds."

"I don't mind crowds." But it was a wasted effort trying to deny it.

"Sure, sure. Oh, make sure you get dolled up. Last night on the town, you deserve to be wearing something other than your blacks."

Thus, the next evening she was tucking the comb Hayate had given her all those years ago into her hair when a knock sounded on the door. By the whistle that sounded as she opened the door, she already knew who to expect.

"Good evening, Genma," she said with her staple smile as she let him in while she returned to her room and, more particularly, her mirror. Her locks had already been rolled into a neat bun, but the comb was the finishing touch that held it all in place. It was an elegant addition to her otherwise simple ensemble of a dark violet kimono, white tabi, and black vinyl zōri.

"Figured I should come by and make sure you were going to make it to the party," he supplied nonchalantly, opting to stand near the door while he waited for her to finish getting ready. "That, and of course, I had to be the first one to say how nice you look before the rest of the guys got to it."

That sounded more like the friend she knew and loved, and as she made her way to the entry again, she was smiling. "You look quite nice yourself. Are you sure this isn't all a ruse to charm some otherwise unattainable young lady?"

He did look the part, in a black buttoned shirt layered beneath a grey vest that matched his slacks. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and he still had that senbon in his mouth, however. For once, his blonde hair wasn't hidden beneath his forehead protector. If he wasn't already wildly popular with the ladies, perhaps she'd see him clean up this nicely more often.

"I promise, no funny stuff. At least at first. After a few drinks, who knows." He gave her a wink and offered his arm. "But don't worry, not everyone's a drinker."

But they could have fooled Yuugao.

By everyone, Genma had meant just about everyone. Considering how restless the whole force had been being called back to Konoha, Yuugao imagined that more came to the Karai sushi restaurant than were truly invited. There were plenty of familiar faces not at their table in the back, including Tenzo, who she naturally gravitated toward for a brief chat. He was well, it seemed, although Yuugao noticed he was also like a fish out of water amid his more boisterous companions. She didn't see him again after she joined her friends in the back.

Anko had already been knocking back drinks like sake was going out of style, as she was twirling her fingers in Genma's hair and commenting, her words just a tad slurred, that he should wear it like that more often. The blonde shinobi had a crooked grin on his face all the while, but Yuugao noticed he was keeping a careful measure of how many drinks he had. Prudent. Admirable.

Iruka was another who wasn't drinking much, if at all. He was sullen, despite Genma's repeated jabs in his side for him to loosen up. Truthfully, he seemed as if he needed it. Even his jacket and tie seemed just a bit too tight for the occasion.

A glass smashed in the front of house and a loud cheer went up. At least they all knew how to pay well for the ruckus they'd caused, or the owner never would have agreed to be overrun by rambunctious men and women acting like teenagers.

"At least try and enjoy yourself for my sake," Yuugao had finally ended up saying to Iruka, with one of her small smiles. She thought she'd set an example by having a sip of the glass Genma had insisted on pouring for her, but to no avail.

"Where's Kakashi? I wanted to wring his neck, too," was Iruka's only sour comment.

"Who knows. Probably at the memorial. Like always. I did invite him." That from Genma, who had finally succeeded in pawning Anko off on the nearest also too-drunk young man who stumbled by. From the looks of it, they'd managed to find their way into one of the supply closets around the corner in the very back of the establishment.

"Thinking of Obito," she concluded softly, a hint of bittersweet in the assumption.

"Nah. Not tonight. Tonight he's thinking about Rin."

Iruka merely shook his head disapprovingly, crouched forward with his elbows on the table. Yuugao on the other hand was curious. "Why tonight?"

"Oh, I don't know," Genma said, throwing his arms back and folding his hands behind his head. "Maybe because he loved her once and he thinks you're just doing this to get away from how much you still love Hayate."

Another smash sounded in the front and Yuugao was glad it could cover the sound of her heart dropping out of her chest.

"Now that was _completely_ out of line, Genma," Iruka immediately was defending her, about to launch into more when her hand on his arm stopped him.

"You're right. I do love Hayate still. I probably always will. But… it's not like that," she said quietly, having since retreated her touch to fold her hands tentatively in her lap under the table. "Not anymore, at least. I'm not doing this to get away from something."

Except even as she said it she knew it was only a half-truth. She was still getting away from something. Now, it was just a different something than she'd first imagined.

Before that something could come waltzing through the door in one of his less-than-fashionably late entrances, she figured it was time to cut her losses and take her leave. Both men rose to their feet as she did.

"Yuugao, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it like that. I've just— Well, forget it. There's no excusing it." Genma seemed stricken. Chances were he'd start drinking now even if he hadn't been keen on it before.

"Don't apologize," she reassured him. And Iruka, too, when she saw the concern written on his face. "Thank you. For always telling me the truth. That's what friends are for, isn't that right?"

As she headed through the shoji screen, she could hear Iruka's angry, "Why did you say that? Damn it, Genma, you're practically heartless."

"Shit, I'm sorry. She's got thick skin, that girl... Go after her and walk her home, will you? You can wring my neck later."

Iruka caught up to her just as she was stepping out into the crisp evening air. Compared to the suffocating humidity of the room full of too much testosterone, it was almost chilling. "Mind if I walk you home?"

"I don't need an escort, Iruka," she told him simply, but she tried to spare his feelings by adding a vague smile.

"I know you don't." A pause, and he blurted out, "I don't get to go with you on the mission, Yuugao. I would have, but, well, there are the students, and…" He shook his head, giving his tie a tug as if he finally realized it was too tight. "Let me at least walk you home. I won't see you again for awhile."

The look he gave her was endearing. "Very well."

Like Genma had before, he offered his arm and she gently slipped her hand through it. It was a shame that only now, on the eve of her departure, could she truly appreciate how much they all did care about her. But it did make her all the more determined to do one last thing before she left.

"Yuugao, I should—"

She stopped him with a squeeze of her hand on his arm. "Don't ruin the moment, Iruka. Let's just enjoy it, shall we? Besides, I have a favor to ask you when we get there."

He nodded and drew his arm a bit closer to his side. She knew again that he needed the closeness more than she did.

Companionable silences with the people she held so dear. Perhaps that's what she would miss most.

When they reached her apartment she let them both in and asked him to take a seat. He obliged without a word, and she retreated to the bedroom, opening the closet to give the box inside one last loving gaze. It was finally time. She was finally ready.

She perched it on the corner of the coffee table and sent Iruka a slightly apologetic smile. "Do you think you could get rid of this for me?"

Apparently his curiosity got the best of him occasionally as well, as his hand moved to the flap and when he pulled it aside he recoiled. "Hayate's…? No, Yuugao, I can't."

She took a seat beside him, plucking the hand that had retreated as if burned and cradling it in both of hers. "Yes, you can. It needs to be you, Iruka."

His fingers were cold. It was a minute before they curled around hers in return. "But why? I barely even knew him…"

"That's exactly why. You won't be tempted to keep anything 'for old time's sake.' It won't be as hard for you." She gave his hand a squeeze. "You've always been my friend first, unlike some of the others."

"Since we were kids."

He understood. He would do her the favor. She was relieved and it showed in her smile. But as she attempted to pull her hand away, he held on tightly, finally meeting her gaze.

"Yuugao, I've never asked you this, but do you… Did you… Have you ever thought of…?" And even though he couldn't finish the thought, she knew what he was saying without words.

"Oh, Iruka, don't—"

"I know it's not my place, but I just thought, I don't know… If you had someone to come back to, maybe…"

Tears were stinging her eyes again, but this time she didn't fight them. "I do have someone to come back to. I love you like a brother, Iruka. I love you all so dearly. I couldn't do this if it wasn't for all of you."

His emotions warred across his countenance and for a split-second she expected he might leave like someone else had so many times in the past. But he didn't. Instead, his arms were around her for a warm hug that expected nothing but gave everything.

"You just better come back," he said when he carried that box out the door with him a few minutes later.

"I will."

It was a promise.

* * *

Fin.

A/N: Okay, this chapter was especially hard to write. Hopefully it was worth it. Anyone who can guess the origin of the title gets a cookie. Also, please forgive me for the epic lameness of their fight. There are just too many jutsu for me to research through them all and create something cohesive and plausible—at least for now. Expect some of that in future chapters, fingers crossed.

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated.


	11. Starlight

Saving Faith

Chapter Eleven: Starlight

* * *

Kakashi, as ever, was fashionably late.

He tossed his jacket across the back of a chair and took a seat at the bar beside Genma at half-past nine. The party was supposed to start at eight, but surprisingly, his friend didn't seem wasted enough for it to have been an hour and a half. When he saw the untouched glass caught between the blonde's fingers, he knew why.

"Yuugao wouldn't come?" He noticed Iruka and Anko were also missing.

"No, she came. And left. Iruka took her home."

Kakashi wasn't sure he liked how that sounded, but he ignored the feeling.

"I really fucked up."

Flagging down the bartender, he ordered himself a drink. He had a feeling he'd need it for whatever Genma had to get off his chest. "What, scare off the only girl interested in you looking like that?"

To be fair, he had at least polished up a bit himself, though not nearly as much. He just wasn't motivated enough. Clothes meant little to him.

"No, I ran _her_ off. Yuugao. Ran my mouth and she left."

To anyone else listening, it would have sounded as if Genma was heartbroken. Or lovesick. Or both. "It couldn't have been that bad."

"It was. And, fuck, you're going to hate me, too, because I mentioned Rin."

Kakashi stiffened just as he was about to take his first sip. He'd left his mask at home, just for the occasion. Before he got angry, he'd give Genma a chance to explain, though he did so in tense silence.

"I just wanted to prove a point, you know? She has to move past Hayate, just like you had to move past Rin. I think I just made everything worse." He groaned and buried his head in his hands. "She left when I said you were thinking about her. Rin, I mean. Shit, man, I can hardly talk straight anymore I feel so awful."

Finally, Kakashi took that first drink. The liquid wasn't nearly potent enough to erase all the makings of resentment Genma's confession had stirred inside him. "I'm sure she'll forgive you."

"Yeah. Probably. That's why we all love her, right?"

There was a moment of silence as he finished his drink and set the empty glass on the bartop. "Yes."

Genma groaned again and realized he was long overdue for a shot of his own, snatching up his glass and tossing its contents back hurriedly, the back of one hand wiped across his mouth. "You know, if you'd just been here on time for once in your damn life, maybe none of this would have happened. Where were you anyway?"

"Not thinking about Rin." In fact, the notion that Yuugao might be brooding over such an incorrect assumption left him feeling unsettled.

"Ah well. Tomorrow's the big day, I'm sure we'll get it all sorted. Plenty of time to talk before we get to enemy territory." The bartender, knowing Genma best of all, had already supplied another full shot glass for him to knock back. "Iruka never came back. That's a good thing. Maybe this party wasn't a complete dud."

"What do you mean?" That was more unsettling.

"Oh, you know, I've been hounding him to just tell her his feelings and all for awhile now. If not tonight, when? Maybe he finally did. Good for him."

He kept silent.

"Come on, don't tell me you disagree. I figured you'd be with me on the whole 'living it up one last time' thing. You never seemed afraid to in the past."

That prompted at least a smirk.

Genma kept him in the corner of his eye, even as he downed another drink. "Give me a break. Do I need to school all of you on how to have a good time now and then? You take breaks from missions for a reason. Far as I can reckon, if we ever needed one it's tonight."

"It's complicated."

"Unless you're in love with the goddamn Hokage herself, it can't be that complicated."

He chuckled. "Maybe."

Either way, he wouldn't find the answer at the bottom of a glass, no matter Genma's philosophies on that point. Without another word he stood from his seat, grabbed his jacket, and shuffled out the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" was hollered after him by a semi-belligerent Genma, but he didn't answer.

It was none of Genma's business, his twisted love life—or lack thereof. It was no one's business but his.

And maybe hers.

There was something that did ring true in the conversation he'd just had. _If not tonight, when?_ It seemed even the dust was whispering it beneath his feet.

_If not tonight, when?_

* * *

When the knock sounded on her door, Yuugao hadn't known what to expect. Had Iruka come back begging for another chance? Had he changed his mind? Had Genma come to apologize for his behavior? Maybe Anko had even sobered enough to realize she should probably say farewell.

Of all the possibilities that skipped through her mind, finding Hatake Kakashi standing on her doorstep wasn't one of them. For a fleeting moment she had half a mind to shut the door but that wouldn't be polite and, regardless of all that happened, _she_ was still polite.

She did notice he leaned an ungloved hand in the doorway to subtly block the door jam just in case.

"You look nice."

Since Iruka had left she'd already shed her shoes and socks, but the compliment did lift one corner of her mouth in a semblance of her usual smile. "Thank you. You do as well."

His ensemble was a lot less formal than the others' she'd seen, but it somehow fitted him even better. A white buttoned-down shirt was untucked over black slacks that almost hid the fact he was still wearing sandals. His jacket was folded over the arm with its hand still in its pocket. But most strikingly of all, he wasn't wearing his mask.

She'd come to the belief that, like Genma's senbon, it was always conspicuously absent when he had something important to say. Perhaps this was just the opportunity for another lecture after all.

"Why did you come here, Kakashi-sempai?"

"I saw Iruka outside. He was carrying—"

"So you wanted to know if it was true? Yes, I had him take Hayate's things." Instinctively her hand went to the comb still in her hair, and there was a wistful tone to the words she spoke next. "Well, everything that belonged to him. Why, did you want to inspect?"

The eye she could see squeezed shut for a moment as if in apology. "No, it's not like that."

"Then how is it?" She wasn't going to let him off easy. For days he'd made her feel like she'd done something wrong, something terrible. If he wanted to apologize, he'd have to say it aloud.

"I saw Genma at the bar. He told me what happened. I wasn't thinking about Rin."

First she was incredulous. Then she was frustrated. At last it was exasperation that registered across her features. "You came all this way just to tell me that? It wasn't as if I was going to lose sleep over the matter."

But before she could even think about closing the door, he leaned a shoulder against the frame, gaze earnestly seeking her own as he said quietly, "I was thinking about you."

The shock must have dawned clearly enough for him to read. She was speechless. She was even skeptical over whether she'd have ever heard that statement had there been cloth still masking the lower half of his face. Perhaps she'd imagined it entirely.

Still, his expression didn't change and his gaze didn't waver. It continued to search her wide one. "I just wanted you to know that before…"

Before they left on a mission that could cost them their lives.

Her heart was in her throat. Words failed her. At last, as he'd already turned to take the first step to disappearing into the night, she was finally able to manage a hushed, "You should have come sooner."

He stopped but didn't turn around to face her again for several moments. When he finally did, there was something of a smile on his face. "I'm sorry. I got lost…"

"…on the road of life?" she supplied, with relief flooding her voice.

That prompted a chuckle. "Ah, my students have been telling on me."

"Children can't help but talk about the people they admire."

By then he was leaning in the doorframe again, and close enough to her that she could catch the scent of soap from his freshly clean-shaven skin. "Are you going to invite me in? It's polite."

With only a smile she stepped back, allowing him to cross the threshold as she turned to head toward the kitchen. "I can make some tea—"

But his hand caught her wrist and stopped her in her tracks. "No, thank you."

All over again she was confused, facing him only to find he'd closed the distance between them considerably, fingers still around her slender joint. Whatever was in his expression she'd never seen it on his face before. "You're not going to stay," she tried to translate.

"I am," he quickly corrected, finally releasing her wrist to her side gently as he tossed his jacket over the back of the couch nearby. "There's plenty of time for tea later." When it wasn't this night, their first night, their last night.

Without another word he reached for that comb, giving it the gentlest tug until it was free of the ebony locks cascading down her back. She heard the soft click of the metal against some surface behind her as he set it aside, instead taking up a single lock and twirling it in his fingertips. By the look on his face he could still remember their first meeting, when she'd so boldly bragged about her skill and her hair. Did he still feel as he did then?

Yet the smile that tugged at his lips answered the question before she could ask it. "I'm glad I never ordered you to cut your hair."

She couldn't help but laugh, softly, though the sound turned breathless as he swept those long fingers of his through the tresses and leaned closer, his forehead coming to rest against her own. "It did almost cost me my life a time or two," she admitted, with just the right amount of chagrin to keep things light.

"Mm, but I never would have. I liked its shine when you fought."

Feeling giddier by the second, that confession set a blush on her cheeks and gave her the courage to lift her fingers to the side of his face, finding smooth skin as they traced his jaw line. "Enough about my hair. You'll make me self-conscious," she murmured, though as she said it her own fingers grazed his hairline at the nape of his neck, finding the silver there just a hint of damp. "Yours is still wet."

"I thought a shower was the least I could do for Genma's party," he offered with a chuckle.

For the briefest moment, a frown flickered across her face. "A party I ruined."

"You didn't ruin it."

As she opened her mouth to apologize all over again, his free hand was on her cheek, thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip. Suddenly she didn't want to say anything at all. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart began to beat just a bit faster, and it was just like the morning at the training field.

Except this time they were standing in her living room, with the moon silhouetting them from the window set over the dining room table, and he'd said he was going to stay. It should have been enough to stay her nerves, but rather she found herself fixed intently on his mouth hovering just a few inches away, imagining she could already taste his breath. Only when his head lowered did she finally let the canopy of dark lashes fall…

The first kiss was soft.

More of a feather-light touch than anything, she knew he meant for it to test the waters, to explore if the connection between them could ignite into so much more. All it took was the subtle parting of her lips beneath his and he couldn't resist. His tongue made a sensual sweep to deepen the kiss, engaging hers for a heady swirl of taste and sensation that weakened her knees and had her senses spinning. Not only was he an amazing kisser, but all of this had been so long overdue she was already thoroughly intoxicated.

Somewhere in the middle of his lips blazing down her throat, he'd gently maneuvered her against the wall to support them both, a hand pressed beside her while the other remained tangled in her hair. He murmured something about how sweet she tasted that only made her feel warmer, her body already flushed with the heat of his own pressed tightly against her, his hair tickling her cheek as his teeth grazed the lobe of her ear. It felt so good she was already humming his name in the makings of a moan.

It felt so right that when he stopped just enough to give them both room to breathe, she wanted to scream.

"Yuugao," he whispered against her skin, and for once it wasn't the formality she'd grown so accustomed to from him. There was no undertone of a teacher speaking to his student, or even an old friend trying to keep his distance. This was a man to a woman, a woman he _wanted_.

She had to tell herself to calm down, to slow down, to focus. She briefly wondered if he had to do the same. By the unmistakable lust she read in his good eye when she finally opened both of hers, she could only assume he did.

But he was hesitating, she could sense it. It wasn't that he was waiting for her to make the first move; far from it. Suddenly it dawned on her.

He needed her to invite him in.

Back when she was so green at the age of seventeen she'd been eager to prove to him above all how determined and brave she really was. Now, almost a decade later, there was the same sudden surge. Considering how her entire being was still reeling from the way he kissed her until she melted, she decided it wouldn't be wise to fight the instinct.

She didn't say a word as she led him to the bedroom.

For years she always felt as if some of her memories with Hayate had been stolen because of how blurred they were. Their first time, some might have said, was too quick. Of course, back then they were young and in love and so there was no such thing as too much of anything, including speed. They were reckless and passionate and everything new lovers should be. Unfortunately, it left the whole experience faded in Yuugao's mind with the time that had passed.

But there would be plenty of memories of this night. The way he huskily said her name more times than she could count. The way he kissed her hungrily as he tugged at the obi she wore. The way he apologized for the callouses on his fingers while his palms smoothed across her skin. The way he took the time to savor every new discovery he made about what she enjoyed the most. The way he held her in the aftermath until she fell asleep.

When she woke an hour later, he was nowhere to be found, but his shirt still hung on the bedpost. She only hesitated a moment before donning it, fastening two of the buttons and making her way out of the bedroom. He'd taken a seat by the window, clothed in just his trousers, staring out at the night sky visible over the rooftops of Konoha.

"I'll make some tea," she murmured, because now it finally seemed the time.

He was quiet as she prepared their drinks, thoughtful. Even when she sat in the chair opposite him there was nothing exchanged save his serving which he took with a smile, though his fingertips lingered on hers longer than necessary just to take the cup. Yuugao was happy to share yet another companionable silence with one of the men she cared so dearly about.

She was sipping her tea when he finally spoke. "Yuugao, I can't be…"

"I don't expect you to be anyone or anything except who you are."

With one hand curled around his teacup, the other fell to the inside of her knee, giving the joint just one casual but tender brush of his fingertips. "I have so many regrets." _But this isn't one of them_, his touch said.

One more sip and she finally set her own portion aside, resting it on the windowsill beside her chair. "We all do. It's part of the life we chose."

"I wonder…" But he took the time to finish his tea before he finished the thought, hand shifting away from her skin as he leaned forward and linked both between his knees. "Had your parents lived, do you think they would have sent you down the path of a kunoichi?"

She reflected for a moment, eventually answering with merely a soft, "They would have wanted me to be happy." When he didn't initially respond, she added a softer, "Your father would have wanted the same for you."

"It took me awhile to see that," he confessed with the slightest hint of amusement in his voice.

To share in the apparent fondness of that, she sent him a smile, though the expression began to fade as she questioned more seriously, "So are you happy?"

Several seconds passed by in complete and utter silence before he eventually met her gaze for a simple, "Yes."

Yet something lingered just under the surface. He was still pensive, and as she continued to gaze at him, it slowly and steadily began to dawn on here. Here was one of the most accomplished, brilliant, beautiful men she'd ever known in her life and he didn't think he deserved to be happy. That was the bottom line to all of this, why he was sitting here, why he'd left her asleep in the first place.

The realization just about broke her heart.

With a hand on his cheek, she was pressing her forehead to his, eyes shut because she didn't need to see into his to know the pain that must be written there. "Kakashi, all of us are so lucky to be alive, much less happy and enjoying our lives. I learned that this last week. But that's exactly why we must enjoy them. You and I know well enough they could be snatched away from us at any moment."

"Yuugao…"

Whatever he might have said next was lost in another kiss as he pulled her closer. There was no hesitation, no careful exploration to find what could act to stoke the heat that built so easily between them. His hands had already mapped every pleasurable point on her feminine figure and when he finally pressed her back against the bed, he wasted no time showing her just how quick a learner he could be. For one night, enjoying life meant enjoying everything two people could share when their souls collided.

* * *

Fin.

A/N: I hope I was able to do two amazingly complex and beautiful characters justice in this chapter. My muse was aptly Muse's "Starlight," a song I think really describes this relationship well. I must admit, I'm terribly paranoid, seeing as it's my first love scene. I briefly contemplated going a bit more…fruity with it *ahem* but ultimately decided against it. Prove to me that people can enjoy a story without a lemon and review? (:

Also, I was able to get so much done on this fic recently because I was convalescing after catching a terrible cold. As I've now recovered (finally!) my updates might not be quite as fast, but expect them to still be speedy! I intend to be working solely on this piece still, I'll just have more limited time every evening to do so.

**Edit**; I already made a few tinkerings on the advice of my beloved husband. He felt a certain sequence made it too rushed, so I simply omitted it. If those of you who have been following the story still feel it's suddenly gotten too fast, pleeeease let me know! I want to know what you hate about this story so I can make it better. Seriously. Reviews of any kind are more than welcomed, they're encouraged, loved, etc.


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